


Become What You Are

by Cheville



Category: USWNT - Fandom, Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19197385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheville/pseuds/Cheville
Summary: Tobin has always been a go-with-the-flow kind of person. Every day has been the same for years now, it seems. At least that’s how it’s seemed to Tobin. For years, the Groundhog Day-esque habitualness of the US Women’s National team and league soccer threatens to make everyone a little crazy. Especially during big tourney years like the Women’s World Cup, the mundane is what the USWNT know. It's what they expect. For some it's almost comforting.But something different is happening this year, especially for Tobin.“I figured you were off limits.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This is my first crack at fan fiction. Started writing the first chapter and all of this just came out. I need to just put it out there and quit fussing with it, so here it is.
> 
> A lot of the game and historical facts are somewhat true. I moved some stuff around to suit the story. Story title is from Juliana Hatfield's album "Become What You Are"

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. Rainer Maria Rilke

* * *

 

In 2012, a few months before the kick off of the London Olympics, coach Pia Sundhage unexpectedly brings in to camp another striker, Christen Press. Press is the best forward in the Swedish Damallsvenskan playing for Göteborg, having been the only American to ever win the Golden Boot. She is fast, smart and completely ruthless in front of goal.

 

Tobin has long been harboring a small and slightly conflicted infatuation for the girl. First, as opposing players in the NCAA, Tobin was a UNC Tar Heel, while Press had been the star striker for the Stanford Cardinal. They would share the field many times in that period, always in the spirit of complete competitiveness. Tobin, more than once found herself on the losing end of a one-on-one battle with Press.  

 

The almost mutual hatred they initially had for each other changed on the day of the 2009 NCAA College Cup Final.  In the 89th minute, Press scored the tying goal, only to have it waved off and ruled offside. The Tar Heels would go on to win the Cup, breaking the hearts of the Stanford team and their fans.

 

In the aftermath of the win, the jubilant scrum of Tar Heel girls finally started to disperse. As is the custom, the winners begin greeting their devastated opponents on the field to shake hands in consolation.  

 

As Tobin makes her way through the crowd of tearful and disappointed Stanford players, she eventually finds herself face to face with Christen Press.

 

“Good ga...” Tobin is suddenly acutely aware she is holding the right hand and staring into the strikingly beautiful green eyes of her defeated opponent.  “I mean, uh, good game. You played one hell of a game.”

 

Tobin takes in a slow breath. As if time is suddenly running at half speed, at the height of her jubilation, staring into Christen’s unearthly eyes, Tobin can suddenly feel the hurt and painful disappointment as if it were her own -- Christen’s beautiful tear-stained face crushing Tobin’s heart like a bug.

 

“Thank you. Congratulations.” is all Christen can muster with a half-smile.

 

There’s a moment where they are just looking at each other. A moment that lasts just a beat too long. And then Christen lets go of Tobin’s hand and walks away.

 

Tobin is surprised at the confusion she feels. She’s happy her team won. She is. Really. But staring at the ground, she suddenly feels the first of a few tears escape and realizes she’s strangely heartbroken for the beautiful girl hugging her weeping Cardinal teammates a few feet away.

 

_What was that?_

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin chalks it up to the emotion of the moment. That game had so many swings and changes in momentum. That must be it.

 

Even though the team is celebrating this evening, Tobin picks a quiet corner away from the revelry and rewinds the game in her head. She remembers keeping an eye on Press from the kick-off. Coach had pointed to Press in warm-ups and warns Tobin, “Don’t let her get away from you. She gets away from us and we’ll pay.”

 

From the beginning of the game, Tobin had been keeping tabs on the speedy forward from her left midfield spot. She found herself one on one a few times, stealing the ball at least once from number 23.

 

In the third minute, Tobin passed the ball to Casey Nogueira. It was Nogueira’s first touch, and as Casey controlled the ball, the UNC faithful grew louder in anticipation. Nogueira stood nearly 30 yards out while standing on the “North Carolina” painted on the Aggie Soccer Stadium field. She toyed with the ball and the Stanford defender. Meanwhile, Jessica McDonald, started to streak downfield. Nogueira delivered a ball that bent into the 18-yard box and found McDonald nearly seven yards from the goal. McDonald did not disappoint and found the back of the net just 2:50 into the contest.

 

Later, during a brief injury time-out and impromptu water break, Tobin tugged on the sleeve of defender Whitney Engen, “Dude, even if it means a card, if she looks like she’s gonna get around you…” She points over at number 23.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said she’s gonna get around me, Tobin?” Whitney says between sips.

 

“I’m just sayin’. She keeps getting around me. I was pissed when I blew a tire trying to turn with her. All I’m saying is she’s good. Really good. You gotta be ready.”

 

Tobin glances over at Christen across the field. Tobin squints in the Texas sun, her mouth opening slightly, and notices for the first time the forward’s pretty features and long sun-kissed legs.

 

_Get it together, Tobin. That’s the enemy, Tobin._

 

Tobin shakes her head furiously and snaps back to reality and of the party going on around her. Someone is yelling on the other side of the room. Tobin realizes the yelling is directed at her.

 

“Tobs! Whaddya doin? Get over here!”

 

* * *

 

 

Later in the quiet of her hotel, long after the celebrations have ended, Tobin’s roommate, Ashlyn, finds Tobin lying in her bed, hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling.

 

“You okay?” asks Ashlyn.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tobin has never been a very good liar.  One of her best qualities.

 

“So...obvious question…” Ashlyn smirks.  “What the heck was that moment you had with their hottie striker?”

 

Tobin rolls her eyes and doesn’t answer.

 

“I’ll rephrase. I can totally tell you felt shitty for her. Ninety minutes isn’t gonna hide your tears or your expression.” Ashlyn has always been completely direct. That fact has, on balance, always been a good thing.

 

“I dunno,” Tobin says into the air. After a long thoughtful pause,  “You should’ve seen her face, Ash.”

 

“I did see her face, Tobs. She lost the game. She was upset. End of story.”

 

“Well, I don’t know what happened, except when I looked at her…” Tobin trails off.

 

“You looked at her and…” Ashlyn coaxes.

 

Tobin is confused. What she’s about to say doesn’t seem to make sense.  Still, it's the truth, so she finally reveals “I looked at her and...well...my heart broke a little for her. It...it broke for her to the point...”

 

“...you started crying?” Ashlyn finishes Tobin’s thought.

 

“Yeah,” Tobin finally says. She’s honestly relieved that someone knows what she’s been thinking, even if it doesn’t make complete sense still.

 

Ashlyn takes a moment to try to understand and then suddenly starts grinning. “You LIKE her.”

 

“Noooo.”

 

“Yeeesss.”

 

“That’s completely idiotic.”  Tobin isn’t about to admit to liking someone that has been a sworn mortal enemy for so long.

 

“Look Tobs, just because we’re on opposing teams is not a reason for you to ignore your feelings. We’re adults here,” reasons Ashlyn. After a beat, she continues “Okay, I’m an adult. I don’t know what you are.” Tobin rolls her eyes.

 

Ashlyn plops down on the bed next to Tobin. “I totally get it too. I mean there is absolutely no denying she is a completely hot girl. Have you seen those green eyes?”

 

Hoping it will end the conversation, Tobin shifts and turns the nightstand light off.  “Well it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never see her ever again.”

 

Tobin is convinced.

 

Almost.

 

* * *

 

 

  1. Two months before the London Olympics.



 

The USWNT is looking for retribution from the last WWC when they lost in the final to Japan.  Everything seems to be clicking and yet Pia is about to make a change that rattles Tobin.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, look who’s here.” Ash is whispering before the start of the team’s first meeting at camp.  She motions to the corner.

 

Tobin turns to see who Ashlyn is referring to and her heart unexpectedly feels like it stops for a moment.  There, in the corner of the room by herself, is none other than, the beautiful green-eyed Christen Press.

 

“Press!” booms a voice from the doorway.  It's Kelley O’Hara, Christen’s longtime friend and teammate from Stanford.

 

Christen looks up, finally smiling for the first time. Tobin’s heart does something strange seeing that smile for the first time.

 

_Sweet Jesus_.

 

“Thank God you’re finally here, Press,” Kelley says, emphatically. Kelley hugs Christen tightly and then turns to Alex and says “She’s totally ruthless in the box.”

 

“I know,” Alex says, smiling. “I came in second for the Hermann Trophy, remember? I have to admit, she’s half the reason I had to up my game.” Alex is actually grateful for Christen’s presence in camp. They’ve long had a strong mutual respect. Alex turns and extends a hand. “Nice to see you, Chris. Welcome. You’re gonna be great. I know it.”

 

“Oh thank you. I hope so.” Christen smiles. “I’m so happy to be here. I’m just kind of, well...intimidated.” Christen’s eyes widen in embarrassment.

 

“By who?” asks Kelley in disbelief.

 

Press motions with her head and eyes at Tobin on the other side of the room.

 

“TOBS?” Alex and Kelley say at the same time.  They both burst out laughing.

 

Tobin has only heard bits and pieces of the conversation but knows on some level she’s the subject.

 

“She may be Ronaldhino on the field, but she’s a total softie in person,” continues Alex.

 

“Yeah, she’s a completely loveable chilled woman-child,” Kelley insists.

 

Christen doesn’t seem to react at first as if she’s mulling over a long instilled idea. Tobin is watching of course, out of the corner of her eye. And then as if on cue, Christen looks up with the softest eyes, meets Tobin’s gaze from across the room and smiles that incredible smile.

 

_Fuck. I don’t stand a chance._

 

* * *

 

Tobin walks out for training with Pinoe most days. Pinoe is quick to notice Tobin is acting differently.

 

“What is your damage, Heather?” Pinoe quips. A reference to watching their favorite Wynona Ryder movie, three times in a row.

 

Tobin, flustered by the question, quickly tries to deny that anything is wrong. “Wha, what? Nothing is wrong.”

 

“Then why do you keep looking around for the new girl?” Pinoe smirks, thoroughly amused by Tobin’s discomfort.

 

_Damn._

 

“I am not. What are you talking about?” Tobin responds unconvincingly.

 

“C’mon Tobin. You stared at her all through the team meeting. You stared at her all through lunch. You nearly jumped out of your skin when she walked into the elevator. What is going on? Tell me the truth. Who walked in on who, naked?” Pinoe is enjoying razzing Tobin.

 

“There was no naked anything. Ever.”  Tobin insists.

 

Pinoe raises an eyebrow at Tobin. “Okay. Well, we’ll revisit this later…” Pinoe gives in for the moment since they have to start training. “But we WILL revisit this.”

 

* * *

 

 

Training goes off without a hitch. That is until Pia decides to have an impromptu scrimmage.

 

“Press! Tobs! You two with Carli, Broon and Amy L.”

 

Tobin tells herself “She’s just another forward. Just another forward...”

 

It's two months before the London Olympics, and the roster isn’t set yet, so the players are giving their best in nearly every situation, especially scrimmages. Every one-on-one is a little chippier, every dribble just a little quicker, every bump a little harder.

 

It doesn’t take long for the squad to push up past their opponents.  Tobin is eyeing Press from the right side, waiting for the moment to make a move. Suddenly, Carli shoots the ball between two defenders to Tobin who launches a cross at Press near the top of the box.  Press, like an impossibly lithe ballerina shoots her right leg into the air, knocking the ball down, controlling it for a split second and then rifling it into the far post corner past a flailing Ashlyn Harris.

 

“Yeah!” screams Tobin, running toward Press.  Without thinking, she throws her arms around Christen and squeezes her tightly. Tobin is yelling in celebration when suddenly she remembers this isn’t a real game and she’s the only one celebrating a scrimmage goal. When Tobin finally pulls away, Christen’s expression is a discernible smirk.

 

“I’m sorry. I just got so excited. How did you do that? Knock that out of the air like that? That was amazing?”  Tobin is breathless. Christen is breathless too. Tobin wonders if it's because of reasons other than running around the field for the last 30 minutes.

 

“I don’t know. Yoga, maybe? It keeps me limber. Gives me balance,” Christen says finally. “Do you always celebrate this much after a scrimmage goal?”

 

Tobin is almost about to lie to save herself, when Pia mercifully ends practice. “Good job, ladies. You worked hard. You all gave 110% today. I appreciate that. Hit the showers and recovery and we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

 

Tobin is mildly panicked because of her celebratory faux pas and jogs quickly off the pitch leaving Christen’s question unanswered.

 

After showering and getting dressed in record time, Tobin hurriedly climbs into one of the team vans back to the hotel.  She’s too busy feeling embarrassed by her behavior to notice someone has slid into the seat next to her in the back of the van.

 

“Are you sure you’re clean? I don’t think one minute is enough to sufficiently get two hours of training grime off.” Tobin knows that voice.

 

Tobin looks up to find Pinoe grinning at her.

 

_Oh Jesus, here it comes._

 

“So what IS your damage, Heather?” Pinoe’s arms are crossed.

 

“What are you talking about?” Tobin replies.

 

“Everything was fine until you ran like an embarrassed little girl out of practice and then bolted outta the locker room. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.  So you’re in love with the new girl. So what?” Pinoe can’t stop grinning her shit-eating grin. Before Tobin has a chance to deny everything, someone else slides into the seat across the aisle.

 

It's Christen. Tobin’s eyes go wide and her mouth drops open a little. Christen’s hair is gorgeously wet and the way she smells right now is enough to make Tobin a little woozy.

 

“Do you always shower that fast?” Christen is working her hair into a messy bun as she waits for Tobin to answer.

 

“Oh, I, uh, maybe it's enough, I…” Tobin is flustered and almost speechless.

 

“I’m just messing with you, Tobin.” Christen smiles. She finishes the bun and turns and places her hands in her lap. Tobin has never seen an act so simple as resting hands in a lap seem as elegant as Press seems to make it.

 

“How was your first day?” asks Tobin, trying to be more confident talking to Christen.

 

“Oh it was good,” replies Christen excitedly.  “I was so nervous, but then Carli told me to just connect one pass and then another and that I’d be fine after that, and of course, I was.”

 

Tobin can’t help but smile as Christen recounts her first day on the squad. The way she moves her hands, the way she smiles, it's almost more than Tobin can handle.

 

“...you know what I mean?” Christen says.  Tobin hasn’t been listening at all, just inadvertently staring.  Pinoe kicks Tobin under the seat. Tobin finally snaps back to reality.

 

“Uh, oh yeah. Absolutely,” Tobin has no idea what she’s saying.

 

Christen is smiling at her with that distinctive smirk again. 

 

_Damn, Tobin. Busted. Again._

 

Christen mercifully doesn’t torture Tobin any more.  She is just smiling a strange knowing smile. Tobin would do almost anything to know what she’s thinking, but stays silent for the rest of the ride back to the hotel.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of camp is one of the best Tobin’s ever been in. The squad is clicking, and everyone seems to be on the same page. They’re leaving for Chester, Pennsylvania in the morning after a few days in Florida.

 

“Tobin!” One of the assistants, Dan motions to Tobin. “Pia wants you in the same room as Christen. She said you’ve been getting along lately and she wants the new girl to feel comfortable.”

 

Tobin first wonders _do they really watch us all the time?_ But before she has a chance to show any sign of panic, Tobin replies “Totally, Dan. I’m on it.”  After Dan leaves, Tobin’s eyes grow wide with anxiety. She swallows the panic in her throat.

 

_C’mon Tobin. Keep it together._

 

* * *

 

 

On the plane ride, Tobin’s leg is drumming a constant and annoying beat against Ashlyn’s seat.

 

“Okay, what gives, Tobin?” Ashlyn pulls her Beats off and raises an eyebrow.

 

“Uh, oh nothing.” Tobin replies quickly, putting a hand on her knee to keep it still.

 

“You would think after all this time, you, of all people, would understand that I know when you’re attempting to lie to me. C’mon Tobin. What is going on?” Ashlyn is annoyed but visibly concerned as well.

 

Tobin pops her head just above the seat in front and looks around.  Everyone has headphones on or is asleep.

 

“Okay, but you have to promise not to say anything.”

 

Ash rolls her eyes and sighs. “I promise.”

 

Tobin takes one last glance around.  “Dan put Christen and me together in the hotel room.”

 

“So? Ashlyn shrugs. But then she begins digging for a distant memory and after a few long moments, turns to Tobin.  “Oh man. Seriously Tobin? You still have a thing for her?”

 

“Lower your voice! I do not have a thing…” Tobin exhales in frustration. “The truth is I don’t know what it is. She makes me nervous. I can’t explain it.”

 

“Well, if you’re thinking of hooking up with her…”

 

“I am NOT thinking of hooking up with her!”

 

“Well, even if you were thinking of hooking up with her, it doesn’t matter. She’s straight and she’s got a boyfriend. She’s had the same boyfriend for awhile now.”

 

Tobin is surprised Ashlyn knows anything about this. “How? What? How do you know this?”

 

“Kelley has the 411 on all things CP,” Ash explains.

 

Tobin considers the idea. _She’s straight. She has a boyfriend.  Okay, she’s off limits. Got it._

 

Tobin visibly relaxes. Ashlyn patiently watches Tobin’s expression and body language and then settles back into her seat and puts her headphones on.

 

Tobin sighs and smiles to herself. She chides herself for acting so nuts around Christen. After almost an hour of wrestling with the idea that Christen is straight and has a boyfriend, something seems to shift inside Tobin. A calmness coming over her, Tobin eases the seat back, half-smile on her face, puts her headphones on, and closes her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin rolls her bag into the room and finds Christen has already set up on the bed nearest the window. The window is slightly open, enough to let a comfortably cool breeze into the room.

 

“I hope this is okay. I just like looking at the water. It reminds me a little of home.” Christen explains.

 

“No problem. Of course,” Tobin replies. She walks over to the window and sees the Delaware River below, lazily winding through town. “Oh, that’s nice. You’re from California, right?”

 

“Mm hm. Palos Verdes, just south of L.A.. I grew up with the ocean next to my house. I’d hear the sound every morning...smell the ocean...”

 

“Nice.” Tobin wants to know more. “Do you have brothers or sisters?”

 

“Yup. Older sister and younger sister.”

 

“Ah, middle child.” Tobin notices the fine detail of Christen’s features and wonders if her sisters look like her. Christen has long brown almost black hair and nearly flawless caramel skin.

 

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Christen asks.

 

“Yup, two older sisters and a younger brother.” Tobin falls on her back onto the bed and after a moment turns and perches on an elbow facing Christen. “Aah... so nice to lay down after travelling all day.”  Christen sits cross-legged in her bed, eyeing Tobin.

 

“Thank you for being my roommate. I think maybe you got forced into it?” Christen’s face is an apologetic wrinkle.

 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. I’m just glad that you feel comfortable here in camp. And I’m actually really glad coach put us together. Now I can learn all your secrets.” Tobin jokes gently.

 

Christen chuckles and shakes her head. “I have no secrets.”

 

Tobin smiles at Christen, genuinely thankful that they’re able to have such an easy conversation.

 

“So what’s it like playing in Sweden?” Tobin has always wondered about the Damallsvenskan.

 

“I love it,” Christen replies genuinely and then as an afterthought “It was hard at first. I had no idea what I was doing, but made some friends who are great and I’ve been doing really well there.”

 

“I heard. I’ve seen some of your highlights. We all went to YouTube to see what the big deal was after you got named to the camp roster. You’re so fast and girl, you can score! You just punish all those blonde girls.” Tobin laughs.

 

Christen tilts her head back and laughs. That laugh and smile make Tobin happy in a way she can’t explain.   _Off-limits, remember?_

 

As if to remind herself, Tobin says “So I also hear you’ve got some super-cute boyfriend.”

 

“Yeah. Nima. He is really cute. We’ve been together awhile. He was my high school boyfriend and we broke up when I went to college. We just got back together not too long ago. He’s been really great while I tried to figure out where I was going to play. He was the one who told me to take the leap and go to Sweden. It's weird. I haven’t really thought that much about him since I’ve been in camp. Thanks for reminding me. I gotta call him tomorrow.” Christen is wistful while she speaks. Tobin is genuinely glad she has someone that is so supportive.

 

“That’s great he’s so supportive.” Tobin says. Looking at Christen, she realizes all she wants is for this girl to be happy.

 

“Do you have someone?” Christen asks.

 

“No.” Tobin sighs and shakes her head. “No time.” Tobin is completely matter-of-fact.  “Especially this year. I hurt my ankle at the beginning of the year and then you know, the league folded. I figured I’d work on getting healed for the Olympics and now I’m just trying to decide what to do next. I actually have a couple offers in France.”

 

“Oh really? Who? I might meet you in Champions League if we get far enough.” Christen sounds hopeful as she thumbs the dog-eared pages of the novel she’s reading.

 

“PSG and Lyon.” Tobin wishes she didn’t have to go overseas but everything’s a bit screwed up with the domestic league being out commission. “I’m leaning toward PSG. There’s one American there. Lindsey Horan. You heard of her?”

 

“Oh yeah. Who hasn’t. I never thought that was an option when I was applying to schools. That kid is a trailblazer.” Tobin nods in complete agreement. “It won’t be long before we see lots of women do that.”

 

“I’m not sure I agree with the not getting an education part, though,” Christen says, truthfully.

 

“Yeah, I’m kinda with ya there.” Tobin agrees.

 

There’s a moment where they sit there silently mulling over what they’ve been discussing.  Tobin notices that it's not really awkward. It's almost as if there is an unspoken mutual understanding.  Tobin welcomes that understanding.

 

Christen goes back to reading a book on her bed. Tobin lays down and puts her headphones on. She looks over at Christen and smiles. Tobin can hear the river’s white noise below their window. Tobin closes her eyes and before long is fast asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Fast forward a few years…

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin has recently returned to the American league Portland Thorns after having played for Paris Saint Germain for several months.

 

While at PSG, speaking the language and understanding the culture of the team had been a challenge.

 

Tobin makes her first mistake at the first team dinner, not knowing that she is supposed to wait til everyone is seated before getting up to get food at the buffet. Tobin walks up to the buffet, fills her plate with food and sits down and starts eating, only to be reprimanded by the assistant coach, in French, and fined for being “an American barbarian.” At PSG, you get up and get your soup, then you eat your soup, then you get up and get your salad, and then you eat your salad, and so on and so forth.

 

Tobin eventually makes friends with Lindsey Horan, the only other American on the squad. They become thick as thieves of course. And to ward off loneliness, Tobin finds comfort with another outsider, a Costa Rican midfielder named Shirley.  Shirley is a world class midfielder, who speaks French and English as well as she speaks Spanish. Shirley has been on the PSG squad for some time and is exactly what Tobin needs right now.

 

In September, 2014, Tobin and Shirley are both called into their national team squads for CONCACAF.  The North American football tournament is an essential part of the process leading up to the World Cup in 2015.  

 

“Tobin!” Coach Ellis catches Tobin on the way to the team bus.  “Hey, Tobin. I just wanted to tell you, you’re bunking with Press in PA.”  The team is headed back to Chester, PA, outside Philadelphia for the Championship.  They’ll be in the same hotel as they were in 2012 before the Olympics. Tobin feels a strange but familiar sensation. Her skin pricks up on her arms. _Hmm…_

 

Once again, Tobin is the last one to the room and Christen has already set up on the bed nearest the window.  Tobin smiles at Christen and walks to the window and looks down below at the trees losing their leaves along the Delaware River.

 

“Nice view,” says Tobin.

 

“Yeah, I love being on the east coast in the fall. We don’t get this in California.” Christen is looking at Tobin with soft eyes, which unnerve Tobin.

 

“Uh, so how are the Red Stars?” Christen has recently moved home from Sweden to play in Chicago in the domestic league.  It gives her the best chance to make the World Cup squad, the same as Tobin in Portland.

 

“Good. I’m getting my bearings there. Starting to get into a groove. I miss…” Christen falters “I miss some things about Sweden.” She has a far away look now as she stares out the window. Red and yellow fall leaves are lilting past the window even at the height of their room in this high rise hotel.

 

“Yeah, me too. My girlfriend is still at PSG.” Tobin says without thinking.

 

“Oh. You have a girlfriend?” Christen asks, obviously surprised. “Do you mind my asking who?”

 

“Oh sure. Shirley Cruz.  She’s a midi on the Costa Rican squad. So I’ll get to see her tonight.” Tobin smiles.

 

“Oh, oh good.” Christen seems...sad?

 

“You’d like her.  She’s such a great person,” says Tobin. She can’t quite read Christen’s expression.

 

_Is she jealous? Am I imagining this?_

 

“I’m sure if you’re with her she’s a great person,” Christen says.

 

Tobin decides to change the subject.  “So what did you learn? You know, being in Sweden so long?”

 

Christen cocks her head and ponders for a moment, finally saying “Swedes love their fika.”

 

“Excuse me? What’s a ‘fika’?” Tobin has never heard of this.   _She must be making this up._

 

“A fika is a very long coffee break.” says Christen, smiling.

 

“Oh, I’m totally down for a ‘fika’ anytime, then,” Tobin grins and Christen grins too.

 

“How bout right now?” Christen asks hopefully.

 

Tobin pops up. “Lets go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin and Christen wander down the street and finally find a small artsy coffee shop with a few small tables outside.  It's just cool enough that sitting outside with coffee makes complete sense. Tobin orders a flat white and Christen, an almond milk latte.

 

Outside in the early evening light, Christen’s beauty leaves Tobin almost breathless. Christen’s long hair is dark and silky and her face has strong but delicate features. Tobin eyes the bridge of her nose and follows the line of Christen’s cheek to the long nape of her neck. Christen’s eyes seem to sparkle in the receding light and her lips are more pink than Tobin has ever noticed before.

 

“I love this time of the day,” Christen is thoroughly enjoying the weather and light as much as Tobin.

 

“Me too.” is all Tobin can bring herself to say. She breathes in slowly and deeply as she looks at Christen.

 

“So what else about the Swedes?” Tobin wants to see that smile again.

 

It doesn’t take Christen long to answer. “The Swedes have a unique and interesting culture. Their favorite color is black. They all speak English better than you or me and...oh yeah, they’ll stare at you, a lot.”

 

“Shit. Have I been staring at you?” Tobin assumes that’s actually a commentary on her own behavior.

 

Christen’s expression suddenly softens. She smiles at Tobin. “What I said about the Swedes is absolutely true. They stare a lot. There are all sorts of opinions written on Swedish staring.” Christen pauses and then says “I don’t mind you staring at me so much.”

 

Tobin doesn’t know what to say but realizes she’s grinning and Christen is grinning. And they are looking at each other like fools.

 

There is a long moment where neither of them say anything.  The coffee shop is adjacent to the river and there are no cars allowed on the street where they’re now sitting.  Just people strolling idly by, enjoying the view and the sound of the river in the background. And this girl. _This beautiful girl._

 

_What are you doing, Tobin?_

 

“I broke up with Nima,” Christen suddenly interjects.

 

Tobin’s mouth falls open. Staring at Christen, she isn’t sure how to respond.

 

“It just got to be too much. With me in Sweden and then in Chicago and now the national team.  But the truth is…” Christen pauses and is silent for far too long, “...well the truth is… I just didn’t feel anything for him anymore.”

 

Tobin finally says “I’m sorry.”

 

“Oh don’t be.  We’re still really good friends.  He’s actually one of my best friends. And we parted on good terms, so everything is fine.”

 

“Oh wow. Well, that’s good.” Tobin is completely sincere.

 

“I don’t know how a person can do this job and have a real relationship.” Christen says only half-joking.

 

“A-Rod and HAO are both married. And Cheney has a fiance and so does Alex.  Lots of the girl’s have relationships. Somehow they make it work,” Tobin is trying to be optimistic for Christen, but then suddenly adds, “I don’t know if Shirley is it for me.”  Christen’s mouth opens. After a few moments Tobin suddenly relents and says truthfully “Actually, I’m thinking she probably isn’t. I just… I just don’t see how we can make it work with the distance and never seeing each other. I’m in Portland and she’s in Paris”  Tobin has a visible crease between her eyes.

 

“Tobin, just... play it by ear. Who knows what will happen in a year.” Christen reaches over and places a hand on Tobin’s arm on the table.

 

The sensation Tobin suddenly feels from Christen’s simple touch on her arm leaves her almost reeling. _Whoa._  She regains her bearings, looks Christen in the eye and bravely asks, “Is it just me, or do you have a thing for me?” Tobin searches Christen’s face for a reaction.

 

Christen looks almost panicked for a moment, but then her expression softens as if she’s finally giving in to something. Christen’s beautiful mouth forms a wry smile as she nods an affirmation.

 

Tobin is breathless but can’t stop smiling at Christen. Tobin finally admits to herself what has been obvious for so long. That she feels _‘something’_ for this beautiful girl. _It's okay Tobin._

 

After just looking at each other in silence for almost a full minute, Tobin finally admits “I figured you were off limits.”

 

“Nope,” says Christen, eyeing Tobin’s lips.

 

* * *

 

 

It's dark by the time, Tobin and Christen decide to head back to the hotel.  The coffees are long gone. They didn’t order more because they didn’t want to be up all night, even though they want to spend more time talking.

 

On the way back, Tobin turns to Christen and says “Look, I think we both need to make the team and the tournament our priority for now. And I need to figure out my whole situation with Shirley. It's only fair. Okay?”

 

Christen nods and continues walking “Of course. I totally understand. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or come on to you too strong, but it's not like I could lie to you when you asked me...what you asked me. If nothing else, I want to be friends.”

 

“Okay, so just friends for now while we get through this tournament? I think that’s about all I can handle right now.” Tobin is trying to gauge how Christen is feeling. She keeps glancing over to see Christen’s expression as they walk through the fall leaves lining the sidewalk. But the city is dark now and Tobin can’t see Christen’s expression even under the street lights.

 

When they reach the hotel room, neither of them says anything.  They get ready for bed. Tobin watches Christen, fascinated as she goes through her nightly routine, washing her face, removing her makeup, applying moisturizer, brushing her teeth and then tying her hair into a bun.

 

Tobin sits on the edge of her bed before getting under the covers. “Are we okay?”

 

“I didn’t think we were a ‘we’ yet.” Christen says softly.

 

“We aren’t.” Tobin almost stutters, “I mean, I just didn’t want you to feel like I’d rejected you or something. I just really need to focus on the team and you do too.”

 

“I get it, Tobin. Really.” Christen has a mona lisa-ish smile on her face. “Can I just do one thing before we go to sleep?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Christen comes over and sits on the bed next to Tobin. She turns to face Tobin, and looking into Tobin’s eyes, places a gentle hand on Tobin’s cheek.

 

Tobin can’t help but move toward Christen. She closes her eyes and then feels Christen’s lips place the gentlest of kisses on her other cheek.

 

Tobin opens her eyes and smirks at Christen. “Is that really all you wanted to do?”

 

“No. But it’s what I’ll take for now.” With that Christen gets up and pulls the covers back on her bed and lays down.”

 

_This girl is going to be the death of me._

 

“Good night, Christen.”

 

“Good night, Tobin.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting._ Buddha

* * *

  
The US crushes Costa Rica in the CONCACAF final, 6 - 0.  Abby Wambach gets four goals.

 

Tobin hurriedly rushes through her team’s congratulations, so she can go talk to Shirley.

 

Christen embraces Tobin, “Great game. You were amazing as usual.”

 

“Thank you. You too.” Tobin can see Shirley over Christen’s shoulder, waving from near the Costa Rican bench.  She reluctantly pulls loose from Christen and makes a bee-line for Shirley.

 

Shirley looks unhappy about her team’s loss, but is honestly thrilled to finally see Tobin. She throws her arms around Tobin, and buries her face in Tobin’s neck.

 

“Mi Amor. Te extrañé mucho,” Shirley whispers.

 

Tobin is happy to see Shirley too, but in Shirley’s embrace can suddenly only think about Christen’s hand on her arm yesterday. Tobin immediately feels guilty and tries to be present.

 

“Can I come visit you later?” asks Tobin.

 

“No lo sé. Our coach is mad we lost so badly, so I doubt he’s going to let us hang out with any of you.” Shirley is obviously disappointed and honestly, so is Tobin.

 

“Really? We can’t hang because of the result? That sucks.” Tobin is almost about to tell Shirley to break the rules but then remembers that will just make it harder on Shirley. “I guess I won’t see you for a few months until after the last game. I’m sorry.”

 

Shirley nods her head sadly and then hugs Tobin again. Her team is beginning to walk off the field into the locker room and she has to join them.  “Llámame más tarde, por favor?”

 

Tobin nods. “Yes, I’ll call you later.” She kisses Shirley on the cheek and watches her walk away. Tobin’s conflicted heart beats a raw steady rhythm in her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

On the bus, A-Rod and Kelley are smug as Tobin slides into the seat behind them. They both spin around to look at Tobin. They both have knowing smiles that irritate Tobin.

 

“What?” Tobin asks defensively.

 

“How come you aren’t spending time with your girlfriend? When’s the last time you saw each other?” Kelley is grilling Tobin.

 

“Her coach is pissed because of the loss. She’s not allowed to hang out, tonight.” Tobin is annoyed.

 

“That stinks,” says A-Rod.

 

“Sorry Tobs.” says Kelley, sympathetically.

 

Tobin catches Christen listening in on the conversation from across the aisle. Tobin can’t read her expression. Christen gives Tobin a half-smile.

 

* * *

 

 

US Soccer has reserved a room at a local bar for the championship celebration. US Soccer goes all out with drinks, a full buffet and all sorts of things the girls are normally not allowed to eat, like candy and cake.

 

After a few obligatory speeches by Coach Ellis and the staff, the coaching staff leaves the squad so they can celebrate uninhibited. They’ve earned it.  

 

The second the door closes behind them, Abby yells, “Let’s get this party started!” The DJ spins up a heavy beat and the team roars in celebration.

 

* * *

 

 

After a few beers, Tobin looks around the room for Christen. Christen is nowhere to be found.

 

“Have you seen Christen?” Tobin asks Pinoe, who is busy telling another tall soccer tale.

 

“No, I haven’t,” Pinoe says a bit dismissively. Pinoe suddenly recognizes Tobin’s worried expression and relents, adding, “Oh wait, yeah she was here a little while ago. I don’t know where she is now.” Tobin nods a thank you.

 

Tobin steps out into the main room of the bar. It's crowded with noisy Villanova football fans who thankfully, don’t recognize her. Tobin scans the bar as she moves through the room.

 

Near the front of the bar, Tobin notices a small room off to one side. As she gets closer, she glimpses what looks like a completely separate bar.  It's closed off by a velvet rope, but as she peers around the corner, Tobin sees a figure nursing a drink at the far end of the small bar. It’s Christen.

 

A bartender is clearing what’s left of a private party. Tobin steps gingerly around the rope.

 

“Hey! This part of the bar is closed!” says the bartender.

 

Tobin stops in her tracks as Christen looks over to see the trespasser.  She smiles a wry but woeful smile and says “It's okay, Jerry.” Jerry motions for Tobin to come in.

 

Tobin sidles up to Christen and sits on the nearest barstool, “First name basis with the bartender? You come here often?” Tobin is honestly so happy to get a moment by herself with Christen.

 

Christen has only the hint of a smile. “No, I’m just polite and introduce myself to people I don’t know.” Christen doesn’t look at Tobin as she spins her glass on the bar. Tobin can tell she’s had more than a few at this point.

 

“Are you okay? How come you’re not with everyone else at the party?” Tobin is genuinely worried.

 

Christen doesn’t answer, at least not right away.  Tobin is going to give her all the time she needs.

 

“I am celebrating. I’m just not good with crowds.” Christen finally looks up. Tobin can’t get a read from her expression or the sound of her voice.

 

“Well then you shouldn’t have picked a team sport where there is literally, always a crowd.” Tobin jokes, hoping that will make Christen smile.

 

“Touché,” Press slurs. She examines Tobin face briefly before adding “so how’s Shirley?”

 

“She’s okay. We didn’t get to hang out becau…”

 

“Oh good. I’m glad.” Christen interrupts. “I didn’t realize she was the captain of the Costa Rican squad. You must be soooooo proud.”  Tobin hears an edge of sarcasm in Christen’s voice and recognizes what feels like disappointment in her own heart. Tobin gets up from her seat, a kernel of anger beginning to flare.

 

“What’s going on?” Tobin asks, surprised “Why are you acting like this?”

 

“What am I acting like, exactly?” Christen asks.

 

Tobin is confused by her feelings and the situation, but one thing seems obvious. “Like you’re jealous.”

 

“How can I be jealous? We’re not even a thing. Remember?” Christen’s words are sounding more pointed. Tobin is just angry, now.

 

_What the fuck am I doing?_

 

“I’m sorry I interrupted you.” Tobin says.  Christen doesn’t turn around or say anything.

 

_This totally isn’t worth it. Fuck you._

 

Tobin shakes her head and walks into the main bar. Tobin is about to wade through the sea of people back to the room with her teammates, but instead turns and walks out the door.

 

Tobin’s eyes sting a little as she opens her phone to get an Uber back to the hotel, but after a moment Tobin closes the app, and instead opens the maps to find a walking route back. She needs time. The app finally pops up a route and how long it will take to get back to the hotel.

 

_Fastest route: 23 minutes. Great._

 

Twenty-three minutes.  Tobin takes a deep breath and starts the trek back.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Tobin hears the door to the room open.  The light flips on and a familiar voice starts screaming.

 

“Jesus Christ, Tobin! What the fuck are you doing in here? You scared the hell out of me!” Pinoe is clutching her chest as she staggers and falls on the bed. Tobin is thankful for Pinoe’s tendency toward dramatic effect. Tobin smiles for the first time in hours.

 

On this trip, Pinoe is the one player without a roommate on the roster and one of Tobin’s best friends. Earlier, when Tobin had gotten back to her room, she took one look at Christen’s empty bed and just couldn’t stomach being there any longer.  With as much resolve as anger, Tobin went down to the front desk and lied that she’d forgotten her room key, but to Pinoe’s room.

 

“I’m sorry Pinoe. Sumthin’ happened with Chris.” Tobin is woeful and apologetic.

 

Pinoe sits on the bed “Oh no. Is she okay?”

 

“That’s the thing. I don’t...really...know.” Tobin is frustrated and confused.

 

“Whaddya mean you don’t know?” Pinoe questions and then adds “and by the way, I could plant corn in your furrowed brow, Dude. What is going on?”

 

“Okay. I’ll tell you, but please promise you won’t tell anyone and you won’t give me shit about it. Please.” Tobin pleads.

 

“Okay, okay. Jesus. Go ahead.” Pinoe gets comfortable on her bed with a pillow under arms and chin.

 

Tobin realizes in order for Pinoe to understand any of this, she will just have to tell her the whole story. Tobin takes a deep breath and sighs. “Did you know that Christen and I played against each other in college?” Tobin begins. Pinoe raises an eyebrow.

 

“And that I’ve had...well…a thing for her for awhile?” Tobin continues.

 

“Everyone knows that.” Pinoe is unimpressed. “That’s not even news.”

 

“And that the other night, she admitted she had feelings for me too?”

 

Pinoe’s eyes go wide. “Wait? What? WHAT? I thought she was off limits. Like straight-as-a-fucking-arrow off limits.”

 

Tobin shakes her head.

 

“Reaaaaally? Go on…” Pinoe insists, steepling her drumming fingers with anticipation.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time, Tobin has finished her story, the first birds are starting to chirp in the early Pennsylvania morning light. The sounds of a city awakening are a reminder that they’ve been talking for hours now.

 

“I don’t know, man.” Pinoe says, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “I’m not a game player.” She looks at Tobin and says “And, well, I don’t think you are either, right?”

 

“No.” Tobin has never played head games with anyone. She wouldn’t know how to do that even if her life depended on it. “No, I’m not.” Tobin sighs, the furrowed brow still firmly planted on her forehead.

 

“Well then that’s fairly simple to me.” Pinoe reasons. “You end it.”

 

“It never really got started,” Tobin says, woefully.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Thanks. I know you’re right.” Tobin takes a deep breath, repeating “You’re right.”

 

The two of them sit in silence for a few minutes listening to the birds chirping and the sound of a delivery truck backing up.

 

Pinoe looks at her watch “Oh shit!  My flight's at 9:30! Isn’t yours early too?”

 

Tobin is suddenly wide awake. She looks at her watch. “Shit!”

 

The two of them are up and scrambling around the room, throwing everything into their bags. Pinoe is done first.  

 

“I’ll run downstairs and get us an Uber.” And with that she’s out the door.

 

Tobin does one last check and then looks out the window at the river again.

 

_Damn it._

 

Tobin quickly walks down the hallway, and on her way to the elevator, stops at Christen’s room.  She puts her hand up to knock, but forces her hand to her side and continues to the elevator.

 

Downstairs, the Uber is waiting.  Tobin looks around the lobby. No one is up yet.

 

Tobin throws her bag into the waiting car and settles in for the short ride to the Philadelphia airport.

 

As the car spins around the hotel driveway and into traffic, Tobin opens her phone and types a message.

 

7:49am

**Hi. I’m sorry about last night**

**I hope you’ll let me make it up to you**

 

7:50am

**< 3 <3 <3**

**Not you're fault**

**I miss you**

**Siempre mi amor**

 

7:51am

**I miss you more**

 

It's the truth.

 

Tobin takes a deep breath as the car pulls up to the terminal.

 

Inside, Tobin thanks Pinoe and hugs her goodbye. Once Pinoe is out of sight, Tobin turns on her heel and heads for the check-in desk.

 

“Name?” says the agent.

 

“Tobin Heath.” Tobin hands her passport over.

 

“Checking one bag to Portland?”

 

“No.” Tobin takes another deep breath. “Can you change my ticket to Paris, please. And leave the return open.”

 

“There’s a flight in an hour to Paris, Ms. Heath. Business class?” says the agent.

 

“Yes. Thank you.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Several weeks later, Tobin is finally back in Portland. Her head feels clearer than it has in a long time. She has time before the next camp to just relax and adjust to the time.

As the Uber driver slides the car through Portland traffic on the I-84 from the airport, Tobin is grateful that she can call this city home.

 

“Hey, can we stop by Voodoo Doughnut, please? It's on the way.” asks Tobin.

 

“No worries, ma'am. That’s my favorite too.” says the driver. Tobin smiles and cracks the window to breath in the crisp Portland air.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin takes the elevator to the apartment she shares with Alex Morgan.  Alex is in Seattle for the next few weeks visiting her fiance, so Tobin has the place all to herself.

 

She unlocks the door, with the enormous donut clenched between her teeth, and pushes her back against the heavy door.

 

Tobin places her bag against the wall, takes an enormous bite of the blueberry cake doughnut and sets the rest on the counter.

 

Alex has put all of Tobin’s mail in a pile on the kitchen table. Alex is nothing, if not organized, something Tobin only aspires to be.

 

Tobin picks up the mail and starts sorting the bills and important letters from the junk.  She picks up the blueberry donut and takes another bite.

 

Tobin suddenly notices there’s a letter from Palos Verdes, California.

 

_Fuck._

 

Tobin stop chewing and plops on to a bar stool next to the counter, holding the letter in one hand and the blueberry donut in the other.

 

When she’s finally coherent again, Tobin looks at the letter and realizes that she has obliterated the donut with her other hand. She reluctantly throws the rest in the garbage.

 

The address is handwritten, in a pink-ish orange ink. She’s never seen Christen’s handwriting before, but in this moment knows for a fact that is her penmanship on the envelope.

 

Tobin frowns and puts the letter back down on the kitchen table and decides to go about her day, determined to not let this undermine her hard-fought zen and clarity.

 

Tobin wheels her US Soccer roller bag into the bedroom and throws it on the bed. She unpacks and starts a load of laundry.  She takes a quick shower and puts on clean clothes. She checks her schedule for the next few days to plan some training and check in with US Soccer for her travel itinerary to Brazil in the next week or so. She sends a few emails. One to the team doctor to take a look at her right foot and the other to her agent about one of her sponsorship contracts.

 

She passes the letter every so often in the kitchen as she moves about the apartment, but is determined not to open it.

 

Eventually, Tobin’s stomach grumbles. She remembers the destroyed donut at the bottom of the garbage bin. Tobin is standing next to the letter when she picks up her phone to make a call.

 

“Becky, are you back?  Cool. You wanna get lunch? I just got back.” Tobin is eyeing the letter in front of her, “15 minutes? Totally. I’ll see you there.”

 

Tobin grabs her keys. Looks at the letter one more time and walks out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Becky Sauerbrunn is a reader and so is Tobin. So after lunch, they stop into Powell Books to browse.  Something about this enormous bookstore makes Tobin feel so at home. It's yet another reason to love Portland.

 

Tobin and Becky both gather a small pile of books with some cups of coffee and sit between the religion and philosophy shelves in a quiet section of the store.

 

After several minutes, Becky says “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. What is going on with you?”

 

Tobin hangs her head, but is smiling a little. She doesn’t want to take this so seriously. Not today. She looks up at Becky and almost...almost chuckles.

 

“It's so not worth talking about, Beck. It's...it's just not worth it.” Tobin almost believes herself.

 

Thankfully, Becky doesn’t believe her at all. “Yeah, whatever. Tell me. You’ve been acting weird since lunch. And don’t tell me you’re fine. I’ve known you for a long time, Tobin Heath. Not only that, well, you are a terrible liar. So just tell me.”  Becky waits, expectantly. Tobin understands that Becky Sauerbrunn has interrupted her favorite activity, browsing her favorite bookstore so that Tobin can spill her guts. Tobin has no choice, really.

 

Tobin tells the Cliff’s Notes version of the story, but Becky still somehow seems to understand the subtleties and minutiae of the situation.

 

“C’mon Tobin. You have to go home and open that letter.” Becky’s arms are crossed.

 

Tobin sighs in frustration. “Why? I don’t need that in my life.” Tobin insists. “My life is...complicated enough.”

 

“Are you perfect? Have you ever made a mistake?” Tobin looks at Becky and knows she can’t argue. There’s a reason Becky is likely to become captain of the team some day.

 

“No, I’m not perfect. Of course, I’ve made mistakes.” Tobin says quietly, staring at the floor.

 

“Tobin, it will take time for you to become who you are. Just as it will take time for Christen to become who she’s meant to be, too. Mistakes and missteps are easy to make.  Forgiveness is hard for most people.” Becky lifts Tobin’s chin so she knows Tobin is listening. “You... aren’t most people.”

 

Tobin feels tears start to well in her eyes. “Damn, Becky.” Tobin wipes her eyes with her sleeve. Tobin starts to stand up.

 

“You gotta go?” Becky stands up with Tobin.

 

“Yeah.” Tobin gives a half-smile and then hugs Becky tightly. “Thank you.”

 

“Let me know how it goes. Okay?” Becky says.

 

Tobin nods, gives Becky a half-grin and then walks down the stairs and exits the bookstore.

 

* * *

 

 

When Tobin gets home and opens the door, she immediately walks over to the kitchen table and picks up the letter. She runs a thumb over the Palos Verdes address.

 

Tobin sits on the barstool and opens the letter and pulls a piece of paper out.

 

_Dear Tobin,_

_I’m sorry._

_I have no excuses, but I want to try and explain at least some of my behavior from last night._

_I thought I would be able to handle you working through your relationship with Shirley, but then I saw you with her and ARod and Kelley were behind me saying they thought she was “the one” for you.  And then I just kind of lost it on the bus when you were sad that she wasn’t allowed to hang out with you._

_I don’t know what happened. I went a little crazy or something. And it didn’t help that I got completely wasted._

_Please forgive me. I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me again. I just wanted you to know, I’m not that person from last night._

_I’m so sorry--_

_Christen_

 

* * *

 

_Dear Lord. She’s been waiting for me to respond for almost a month._

 

Tobin walks around the apartment with the letter in her hand. She looks out the window at the Portland skyline and wonders what Christen is doing in this moment.

 

_She’s probably looking out the window at the ocean._

 

Tobin decides that she’ll just wait til camp in a few weeks to be able to talk to Christen in person.  “We’ll straighten it all out then,” Tobin tells herself.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Tobin arrives at camp in Tampa ahead of the tournament in Brazil, the last tournament and last hard test before the start of the 2015 World Cup year. Tobin was told via email that Christen would be her roommate again.  

 

When she walks into her room though, Ashlyn Harris suddenly pops out of the bathroom.

 

“Aargh!” Ash has her arms in the air like a scary monster, but all Tobin can think is _“Where is Christen?_ ”

 

“That’s one hell of a welcome. Nice to see you too, brah.” Ashlyn is half-serious as she jumps on to the bed, crosses her legs and puts her hands behind her head.

 

“What are you… I thought...” Tobin is confused.

 

“You gonna finish a sentence, Tobin? What? You were expecting some hot brunette with long supermodel legs?”

 

“Well, yeah, actually.” Tobin says matter of factly.

 

“Oh, well, she switched with me and Kling, so now you get me instead. That okay?” Ashlyn has a mildly worried look on her face.

 

“Yeah. Of course. Of course. I was expecting a different situation, that’s all.” Tobin’s expression telling a different story.

 

“Okay...” Ashlyn is suspicious.

 

“Where is their room. I just need to talk to Christen.” Tobin says, suddenly.

 

“722. It's literally the room right above ours.” Ashlyn replies.

 

“Thanks, Ash,” says Tobin as she scoots out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin finally finds herself in front of Christen’s room. She gathers her resolve and knocks on the door.

 

The door opens and there stands Christen, her lovely hair loose around her neck. She’s wearing Nike running shorts, a white tank and flip flops. She’s honestly never been more beautiful. Tobin is literally breathless seeing her again.

 

“Hi,” says Tobin. She can’t help but smile.

 

“Hi,” replies Christen, staring at Tobin. “I’m sorry, come in. Please.”

 

Christen steps aside and Tobin walks through the doorway, catching a whiff of Christen’s shampoo.

 

“How are you?” Christen asks.

 

“I’m good.” Tobin honestly wants to reach out and hold Christen, but she resists the urge. “How’s your break been?”

 

“It was okay. I went home to LA and stayed with my parents.”

 

“By the ocean?”

 

“You remembered.” The faintest smile shows on Christen’s lips.

 

“Of course.”

 

They don’t say anything for what seems like an eternity and then Tobin finally breaks the silence. “Listen, I need to say something.”

 

Christen sits on the bed and folds her hands in her lap. “Okay.”

 

“I got your letter.” Tobin begins, “but I didn’t read it for a long time because I...I didn’t get home until a week and a half ago. I’m sorry. I would have responded sooner.”

 

A wrinkle has begun to form on Christen’s brow, something Tobin has never seen before.

 

“Where were you for a month?” asks Christen, her eyes unfocused.

 

“Well, almost a month.” Tobin corrects.

 

“Okay, almost a month. Where were you?” Christen is more insistent now.

 

Tobin suddenly realizes what is happening.

 

“I was...I was in Paris.” Tobin says, finally.

 

“Oh.” Christen says softly. “You were in Paris for a month.”

 

“Almost a month.”

 

“A month. Almost a month. Does it really matter, Tobin?” Christen is painfully quiet now.

 

Tobin finally understands what she should have done. She should never have gone to Paris to rekindle a romance with Shirley. She doesn’t feel the same feelings for Shirley that she does for Christen. Her heart doesn’t swell and feel like it will burst like it does when she’s with Christen. She doesn’t feel the same connection as she does with Christen. She has constantly second-guessed and ignored her own true feelings and didn’t recognize what was real and honest and now it's too late.

 

_Fuck._

 

Christen finally stands up. “I’m not mad at you.” She sighs and says sincerely “I am a little sad.  And, the truth is, I’m mad at myself. Look, we’re both here to do our jobs. It's my goal to make the World Cup team. Like you said, the team is the priority. It was a mistake to think we could be more than teammates. I’m sorry.” Christen can’t look Tobin in the eye anymore “I think I wrongly assumed some things about your intentions. I expected...too much.” Christen looks like she may cry. Her lower lip starts to tremble. “I think I just need to make this team my focus from now on. I need to remove all the distractions...” Christen looks up finally, a strange resolve in her voice, “and so do you.”

 

“I understand,” says Tobin, even though her heart is saying something else. She can feel a painful warmth rising out of her chest and into her throat, threatening to spill tears in front of Christen.

 

Tobin doesn’t know what to say. She just wants to stay here. She wants to hold Christen and apologize over and over and tell her she fucked up.

 

“You should go now.” Christen says finally.

 

“Can we still be friends?” Tobin whispers.

 

“I don’t know.” Christen replies. Tobin knows it's the truth.

 

Tobin’s lips tremble as she looks at Christen one last time and says haltingly, “For what it's worth...and it's probably not worth much. I never meant to hurt you...and...I know you didn’t mean to hurt me either.”

 

Tobin turns and opens the door, walks out and back to her room.

 

_Fuck. No, no, no, no…_

 

Tobin tries desperately to rein in the grief as she opens her door.

 

Ashlyn is there and sees the look on Tobin’s face.  She jumps up and grabs Tobin by the shoulders, “Tobin? Tobin! What happened? What's the matter?”

 

Tobin can’t say anything at all. She’s inconsolable. She shakes her head as she looks at Ashlyn and eventually gives in to what she finally recognizes. She is truly heartbroken. Tobin crumbles in Ash’s arms and begins to weep.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Tournament de Brasil 2014

 

December 14, 2014, Brazil vs USWNT  3-2 (L)

December 21, 2014, USWNT vs Brazil  0-0 (D)

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin continues to try to do the right thing. Sometimes that is harder than you would think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to do these chapters as quickly as I can. I want them to be as good as possible, too. Let me know your thoughts. I appreciate all the kudos, already. Thank you so much.

"Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it. " Mark Twain

* * *

 

December 24, 2014, Basking Ridge, New Jersey

 

* * *

 

“Wanna play some Mario Kart, Tobs?” Jeff knows when his sister needs a distraction.

 

Tobin had planned on flying back to Portland after the tournament in Brazil, but instead, surprised her family in New Jersey for the holidays.

 

“Uh, yeah.” Tobin loves Mario Kart, but can’t remember the last time she played or even thought of playing.

 

If Tobin ever decides to hang up her cleats, she could easily make a living being a competitive video gamer.  She and Jeff trade leads and trash talk all through their game, but in the end, Jeff comes out on top, a very rare occurrence.

 

“Wanna go again?” Jeff asks, bouncing the controller on his knee, trying to persuade Tobin.

 

“Oh no. Thanks though, buddy.”  Tobin forces a smile as she leans back into the overstuffed couch in her childhood home.

 

It's been several months since Tobin has been home, but sometimes circumstances make the pull of family and familiarity too strong to ignore. Tobin needs her family right now.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Jeff, unlike Tobin’s two older sisters, is the most like his cerebral and sensitive sister.

 

Tobin looks up and offers her younger brother a wry smile. She’s denied to almost everyone that something was wrong.  She can’t even think of why. Doing that to Jeff, would be like doing that to herself. Again.

 

“I don’t think I’m ready just yet,” Tobin says meekly.

 

Jeff flips the controller over in his hands and then sets it down. “Okay.” He gets up, knowing Tobin needs a moment to herself. He turns and shoots a concerned look at her before leaving the room, “I love you, Sis.”

 

“Love you too, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

Perry and Amanda are home in New Jersey for a rare Christmas dinner with the whole family.  Tobin is happy to be home with everyone for the first time in literally, years.

 

Christmas dinner with the entire Heath family is always a boisterous affair, and this year with everyone home, it's even more animated.

 

“I did not push you into the pond, Tobin!” Amanda is arguing with the family over some long ago childhood antics.

 

Jeff is pointing and attempting to yell with a mouth full of food. “Yeff you did, Amanda! I wath there!”

 

Tobin’s mom points a fork in Jeff’s direction. “Don’t talk with your mouth full!” She’s beaming at her children, nonetheless.

 

“You were three! There is no way you remember that!” Perry is shaking her head, laughing.

 

“I have a very good memory!” Jeff is nearly crying as everyone at the table tries to get a word in.

 

Tobin suddenly realizes she is belly laughing for the first time in weeks. A deep healing laugh that begins to repair Tobin’s fractured heart. In that moment, Tobin feels so much love for her family. She looks around at everyone. The delicious feast and warmth around the beautiful Christmas table her mother has created makes Tobin realize just how grateful she is for her family. Something in the moment makes Tobin start to tear up.

 

“I had to save Tobin, cuz of you, Amanda! I ruined those new shoes Dad got me for church.” Perry says indignantly.

 

“They were not new.” Amanda is rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

 

“Yes they were!” Perry is laughing so hard, she nearly chokes on a sip of water.

 

Tobin's mother notices Tobin’s raw expression. “Tobin, honey, you wanna help me with something in the kitchen?”

 

Tobin looks up at her Mom and forces a smile “Sure, Mom.”

 

Tobin gets up from the table, walks into the kitchen and looks at her mother “What do you need help with, Mom?”

 

Tobin’s mother says nothing. She looks gently at her youngest daughter for a moment, a knowing and subtly worried look on her face and then, unexpectedly, opens her arms.

 

Tobin without even thinking, walks forward and falls into them and embraces her mother.  Tobin closes her eyes and breaths in the familiar smell. Home. The woman who has seen Tobin through a thousand scrapes and injuries in the backyard and on the soccer field, holds her daughter now knowing a bandage won’t fix whatever is ailing Tobin. Tobin’s tears flow freely now. She weeps quietly into her mother’s breast, convulsing in her arms.

 

After a few minutes, Tobin’s mom, still holding Tobin in her embrace, says “You don’t have to talk about it now, but I think it might help at some point, if you do.” She puts her hand under Tobin’s chin. “You know you can tell me anything.”

 

Tobin just nods her head as her mother wipes tears from Tobin’s cheeks.

 

Mrs. Heath hands her daughter a tissue to wipe her tears.  “Come back in when you’re ready.” She kisses Tobin on the forehead and heads back into the dining room.

 

* * *

 

Later, after everyone else is asleep, Tobin’s mom is still tidying up from dinner.  Tobin knows her night owl of a mother will have made a pot of coffee and will be up late reading in the breakfast nook after she’s done.

 

Sure enough, Tobin finds her mom downstairs, in the corner of the kitchen with her reading glasses on.  There’s a book laying there, but she’s not reading. Tobin notices not one, but two cups.

 

“Hi, honey.” Tobin’s mom takes her glasses off and pats the spot next to her on the cushioned bench for Tobin to come sit next to her. Tobin scoots into the corner of the nook next to her mom.

 

Tobin’s mom pours two cups of coffee and pushes a cup in front of Tobin.

 

Cindy Heath is nothing, if not patient. Tobin sighs a few times and sips the coffee.

 

“I screwed up, Mom.”

 

“Okay. How did you screw up?”

 

“I accidentally misled a girl.” Tobin says, shame in her voice.

 

“What did you say that misled her?”

 

“I...it's not so much what I said. It's how I acted.” Tobin tries to explain.

 

“Are you talking about Shirley?”

 

“No. Not Shirley.” Tobin’s mother shifts in her seat.

 

“Then who, exactly did you mislead?”

 

“Christen.”

 

“Who’s Christen?”

 

“You know. Christen Press. She’s a newer person on the team. She came in during the last Olympics. Anyway, I misled her. What’s worse is I didn’t realize I was doing it. And what’s worse than that, is I really really like her.” Tobin is despondent.

 

“Tobin, honey. Can you just start at the beginning and tell me how this happened?” Tobin has never told her mom these kinds of details about her private life, but if she wants her mom’s help, she’ll just have to do it.

 

“You remember when my team won the last College Cup in 2009?” Tobin begins.

 

“I remember,” Tobin’s mother recalls.“You beat Stanford,”

 

“Yeah. Something happened after that game. I never talked about it really, because I thought I was just being...well, an idiot.” Tobin smiles a little. She can’t believe she’s about to tell her mother this story.

 

Tobin’s mother beams lovingly at her daughter. “If this has anything to do with your heart, baby...I’m afraid we’re all idiots.”

 

Tobin smiles, thankful for her mother’s love and wisdom.

 

* * *

 

Tobin spends the next few days in New Jersey hanging out with her family and old friends.  She finally feels lighter and just a little bit clearer about at the very least, the near future.  Tobin has to get back to Portland before she flies into L.A. for January camp. Her mother offers to drive her to Newark airport, in order to get a few more minutes together.

 

Tobin’s mother pulls into commuter traffic on the Phillipsburg-Newark Expressway headed towards Manhattan, something she’s done literally hundreds of times before with Tobin. Usually, there have been soccer balls and coolers and other kids in tow. But now it’s been years since there’s been anything but Tobin and her luggage in the car, and Tobin is feeling sentimental for those more innocent days.

 

“Are you going to be okay?” asks Tobin’s mother.

 

“Yeah, I think so. I just want to put this all behind me. Thank you for letting me bend your ear about it.” says Tobin, gratefully.

 

After a few more minutes, “I do have one question,” says Tobin’s mother, thoughtfully.

 

“Okay. What?”

 

“What is going on with Shirley? I know she’s in Paris and I know that’s been hard on the two of you. With the distance and all. Are you going to go back to her? And I assume she knows nothing about Christen? Because I’m thinking...you’re going to have to come clean to her at some point. It's only fair. And I hate to say it, hon...but you’ll have to do it in person.” Tobin’s mother always seems to know the right thing to do.

 

Tobin takes in a deep breath. “That’s the thing. I didn’t realize until too late how strongly I felt about Christen. Every time I was with Shirley, I thought about Christen. With Shirley, I kept trying to be there in my head. The problem was...I think I just wasn’t there in my heart. And I didn’t listen to myself at all. I feel so stupid, Mom.”

 

“You are not stupid. But, you sometimes don’t realize when someone has feelings for you. Or you just don’t recognize it. Sometimes, I think you just don’t believe it.” Tobin’s mom gets a grin on her face. “I've had more than a few mothers, not to mention, fathers, tell me at a game or at a school function that their son or daughter had a crush on you.”  Tobin’s mother glances over at Tobin, who has a look of disbelief on her face. “So, I think it’s a big deal that you were brave enough to actually ask Christen if she has feelings for you. Still, you’re going to have to sort out your relationship with Shirley. You have to tell her the truth.”

 

Tobin is so disappointed in herself.  “I know I have to tell her. I will. I promise to do the right thing.”

 

“I know you will, honey.”

 

* * *

 

Tobin arrives in L.A., a few days ahead of camp. Tobin has always loved Los Angeles. The sun, the ocean and even the vibe of the city is something that feeds Tobin’s spirit.  She finds time to do some surfing with Kelley O’Hara before they both have to report.

 

Kelley and Tobin have few things in common, except for soccer and surfing, both of which they are completely obsessed.  Manhattan beach is their favorite. Slightly south of the tourist crowds at Santa Monica, Manhattan Beach is a good place to ride the surf and join a quick pick-up soccer game with players of all stripes.

 

On this day, after a long surf session, Kelley and Tobin join a pickup game with what appears to be several new local players, and a few members of the L.A. Galaxy, midfielder, Robbie Rogers and new forward, Gyasi Zardes.

 

One of the locals tells Kelley and Tobin, they should just go ahead and have Robbie and Gyasi on their side.

 

“Oh man, this is gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel,” Kelley is smirking.

 

“I know. What are they thinking? This isn’t even remotely fair.” Tobin agrees, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

 

Robbie comes over and says seriously “Okay, we need a plan, or this could get ugly.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Kelley is confused.

 

Gyasi holds a hand up to his mouth and tries to stifle a chuckle.

 

“What do you guys know that we don’t?” Tobin is perplexed.

 

“These guys aren’t from some friggin’ rec league.” Gyasi is laughing as he adds “these are members of the Mexican national team. L.A. plays them on Sunday in a friendly.”

 

“What the fuck?” Kelley’s eyes go wide “That dude who told us to be on your side has no accent whatsoever!”

 

“That’s because he’s American. He plays in USL for the Seahorses, but his cousin…” Gyasi motions towards a very athletic looking young player “is Javier Hernandez, a forward for Mexico.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Exactly,” says Robbie.

 

The Americans spend a few more minutes sizing up their opponents and talking strategy, for whatever that’s worth. There is their pride at stake, after all.

 

“Well, c’mon. Let’s get this over with” says Tobin.

 

As expected, the Mexican players run circles around the Americans.  There is a fair amount of yelling in Spanish, only some of which Tobin understands. Thankfully, Tobin gets at least one of her signature nutmegs on Hernandez with a quick pass to Gyasi who taps it into goal.  

 

After the next restart, Kelley is bombing up the right and attempts a pass at Robbie near the goal. Hernandez intercepts the ball, only to be hard-tackled by Tobin. Hernandez goes down in a heap in the sand, getting a mouthful in the process.

 

The Mexican player stands up, spitting on the ground, and looks at Tobin. Tobin can’t tell if he’s smiling or gritting his teeth when he says “Que te la pique un pollo!”

 

“Did he just say..” Tobin thinks she misunderstood, but apparently she didn’t.

 

Robbie comes over and says “Yeah, he just said he hopes a chicken pecks your dick.”

 

Tobin is smiling from ear to ear. _Spanish insults are the best._

 

“Nice,” says Kelley.

 

The rest of the match is a lesson in futility.  And the last thing anyone needs is to have to explain to any of their coaches that they got injured playing a hard-tackle pickup game with the Mexican Men’s National team.

 

Americans, 1 - Mexicans, 5

* * *

 

Later, after getting an ice bath and a hot shower, Kelley and Tobin stop into one of their favorite restaurants, Manhattan Beach Post, for dinner and a couple of beers.  L.A. sunsets are an absolute wonder to behold. The sky and air all seem to turn the most amazing shades of pink and orange. Once the sun is past a certain point on the horizon, the temperature drops precipitously and brings a welcome cool breeze and for Tobin, a feeling of satisfaction after such a good day.

 

“It's been a really good day,” says Kelley watching the sunset from their table.

 

“Yeah, for sure. Amazing day. Thank you for hanging out with me.” Tobin is feeling free from worry and pleasantly spent from the day’s activities.

 

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” says Kelley, unexpectedly. She gives Tobin a knowing look. “We were all really worried about you in Brazil. And not how you played. You played like shit, by the way,” Kelley grins at Tobin, but then her expression turns more somber. “More that we all knew something had happened and you weren’t...I don’t know...you weren’t right.”

 

Tobin is almost surprised that she still feels so calm. She soaks in the last of the disappearing sun’s rays from this spot on the beach and knows telling Kelley isn’t going to be a big deal. At least not today.

 

“You remember the 2009 College Cup Final?” says Tobin, still facing the sunset.

 

Kelley, a proud Stanford Cardinal alumna arches both her eyebrows and says “How can I forget. Took me a while to forgive you for that.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Well, what does that have to do with Brazil?”

 

Tobin smiles. “We should probably get another round before I tell you all of this.” Tobin motions at the waiter, who looks over as Tobin picks up her beer glass and puts two fingers in the air.

* * *

 

“Holy shitballs, Tobin.” Kelley has always had a way with words. Tobin attributes Kelley’s colorful vocabulary to her fiery Irish background.  The only person who barks louder or swears more on the field than KAO is Abby Wambach.

 

“I don’t think she wants to be friends with me anymore. I somehow fucked that up too,” laments Tobin.

 

“Oh c’mon, Tobs. So you guys had an argument.  I get that it was emotional and deep. I get that you’ve had feelings for her, but look, you are going to be in close quarters with this girl for a VERY long time. So you are both gonna hafta figure out how to communicate and get on the same page.  If Jill sees negativity from either of you, that will hurt both of your chances to be on that team in May.”

 

Tobin knows Kelley is right. Tobin is determined to get to the World Cup again. She’ll do what she needs to do to get there. Tobin watches the last of the orange sky recede into darkness.

* * *

 

The USWNT begin a twenty-one day camp in Carson, California just outside Los Angeles. Thankfully, Tobin gets Amy Rodriguez as her roommate during camp.

 

It's the usual suspects in terms of pre-season testing for the team. Beep test, vertical and horizontal leaps, 40 yard T, sit-ups, push-ups, agility runs.  By the end of the first day, it's always apparent who hasn’t done their homework or had the humility to understand you truly are in competition for your spot on the World Cup team. Not being humble to Coach Ellis means you are more than likely not hungry to improve and push yourself, all things that the World Cup team will need in order to compete this year. Being a “star” means nothing to Coach Ellis. You have to bring it when it counts in order to be considered.

 

Fortunately, surfing and playing pickup soccer in L.A. has kept Tobin’s skills sharp. She feels strong and balanced.  The first time she sees Christen during camp, she nods to Christen as if to say “we’re both here for the same thing.” Christen is almost expressionless.

 

The US is flying out in a few days for Lorient, in the region of Brittany, in northwestern France.  They will meet France as a warm-up to the Algarve Cup Tournament in Portugal in a few months.

 

Tobin had asked Shirley to come to Lorient for the match, but Shirley was unable to attend because of international duties with the Costa Rican national team. Several of their PSG teammates are on the French squad and even though Tobin knows Shirley is pulling for the French, she still wanted her to be there.  It would have been a good opportunity to make good on her promise.

 

It’s a long flight from LAX to Paris and then a train to Lorient from Gare Saint-Lazare. During the wait at Saint Lazare, the admin team is making their way around to the team to check in.

 

“How are you doing, Tobin?” asks Molly. Molly has been the team coordinator for both national teams for some time and a superwoman to both squads. Molly helps organize travel itineraries, sort meals and meeting locations, she gets tampons and dramamine, organizes celebrations and puts fires out when necessary. She is on full time with the USWNT this year because it's a World Cup year and the schedule, as always, is very tight.

 

“Hey Mol. I’m good. What’s up?” Tobin likes Molly because she is a no BS sort of person.

 

“Our hotel accommodations got a little screwed up in Lorient, so unfortunately, we’re a little split up. It's not a big deal.” Molly fusses with her iPad and some loose papers. “You are... at Hotel Thalasso...with Press. Okay?”  She hands Tobin the information. Molly doesn’t wait for answer before she’s moving on to the next player. If she asks you a question, more often than not, it's rhetorical.

 

“Okay,” replies Tobin, blankly.

* * *

 

Lorient is an ancient French fishing port. On hot summer days, the smell from the fishing industry in the center of the port is uncomfortably strong.  Fortunately, it is the dead of winter in Lorient and the town smells mostly like the salty cold of the Atlantic and only mildly of fishing detritus. Tobin hails a taxi from Gare de Lorient, as she and Morgan Brian are the last to figure out that the team being split into separate hotels means everyone has to sort their own transportation to and from.

 

Tobin takes pity on the University of Virginia rookie and puts her and both their bags into a taxi.

 

Tobin’s French is a little rusty, but after several minutes they somehow find Morgan’s hotel. Morgan looks at Tobin with a mildly panicked expression, so Tobin goes into the hotel to make sure Morgan gets into her room.

 

Eventually, Tobin wheels into the bottom floor room of the Thalasso Hotel in Lorient. Once again, Press is on the bed nearest the window looking out over the rocky beach and seaport.

 

“This is getting old.” Tobin says jokingly.

 

“What?” Christen suddenly looks up.

 

Tobin gives Christen a meek smile and then to bolster her confidence says “You. Always getting the good view.”

 

Christen smiles a little and looks out the window. “It is a nice view, isn’t it.” The Atlantic is calm today. It’s late enough in the day that the sparse clouds are casting long shadows across the entrance to the Blavet river.

 

“I don’t mind, of course.” says Tobin, truthfully.  

 

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence.

 

“Look, I don’t...I don’t want things to be weird between us,” says Christen finally looking up at Tobin.

 

“Define ‘weird’.”

 

“You know what I’m saying.” Christen is serious.

 

Tobin sits on the edge of her own bed and sighs “Look, I’m not here to make things difficult for you. Or for me for that matter. We’re here to do the same thing. Play the best that we can and get on the World Cup squad.” Tobin adds, “We don’t have to be friends, but we do have to be on the same page. I don’t know about you, but in the end I want to be hoisting that trophy in the air.” Tobin waits anxiously for a response from Christen.

 

Christen’s eyes begin to soften and the hint of a smile slowly forms on her face. Tobin’s heart feels like it could burst.

 

“You know, if you got here earlier. YOU could have the ‘good’ view.” Christen says matter-of-factly. Christen isn’t exactly smiling, but at this point, Tobin will take what she can get.

 

Tobin doesn’t say anything. She just grins softly and watches Christen out of the corner of her eye.  Christen goes back to writing in her journal and sits cross-legged on the bed.

 

The sun reflects beautifully off the Atlantic ocean behind Press. Tobin sneak’s a photo of Christen. Her hair falls effortlessly over one shoulder. She looks relaxed and natural in this ancient city over 5000 miles from either of their homes.

 

Eventually, Tobin says “Hey, I wanna show you something.”  She sits on Christen’s bed and shows her the beautiful picture she’s just taken.

 

Christen smiles looking at Tobin’s phone. She turns and looks into Tobin’s eyes. Tobin can see the hazel irises of Christen’s impossibly green eyes and is once again speechless.

 

“Can I post that?” Christen asks.

 

“Of course. What’s your number?” Tobin asks, readying her phone to send the picture.

 

“Is this all a ruse to get my number?” Christen asks, looking at Tobin sideways.

 

“No! No, of course not.” Tobin is mortified.

 

“Tobin. Calm down. I’m totally messing with you.” Christen is amused by Tobin’s reaction.

 

It’s a strange sensation being panicked and so happy at the same time.

 

_Seriously. This girl is gonna be the death of me._

* * *

 

A few days later, the USWNT are not at all surprised by a sell-out crowd at the Stade du Moustoir in Lorient.  The game is tight. The US has plenty of chances that don’t go in the net. Ashlyn Harris is in for a suspended Hope Solo and has to make several key saves, but it's not enough.

 

USA 0 - France 2

 

Christen had several chances but wasn’t able to connect. Alex Morgan couldn’t connect either.  Christen doesn’t think it was a particularly good performance on her part and it shows on her face after the game and later in the room the next morning.

 

“I got you something,” says Tobin. Christen has been packing her bag for the trip home. She looks up.

 

Tobin is holding a small box with a pink ribbon around it.

 

“Did you know that there is a bakery literally around the corner from this hotel?” Tobin offers the box to Christen.

 

“My understanding is there is a bakery around the corner from everywhere in France,” replies Christen.

 

Christen comes over, and takes the box from Tobin. Tobin gestures for her to open it.

 

Inside, there is a beautiful golden puff pastry with a glaze and confectioners sugar on top. Christen’s eyes go wide. “What is it?”

 

“I’m gonna totally butcher this pronunciation, but it's called a ‘Puits d’Amour’ or a ‘well of love’,” says Tobin.  “The bakery is actually named after the pastry. It's their speciality.”

 

Christen is taken aback, but smiling “You wanna share it with me?”

 

“God, I was hoping you’d say that! They told me it was full of ‘crème’?

 

“I don’t have a fork,” Christen is looking around the room for an implement of any kind.

 

“Who needs forks?” Tobin says. She holds her hands in the air.

 

“Oh yeah.” Christen climbs on Tobins bed and sets the dessert down. She and Tobin grin at each other anticipating the dessert.

 

They begin carefully pulling the dessert apart.  It turns out the puff pastry is hollow. The “well” in the middle contains the most delicious cream Tobin has ever tasted.  The best part of enjoying this “well of love” is that the look on Christen’s face as she savors the dessert will be well worth the verbal lashing she will get later from Dawn, the performance and nutrition coach.

 

Dawn had been eating the marquis dessert of the Pâtisserie au Puits d'Amour when Tobin had purchased hers. Tobin had just paid, turned, saw Dawn [ _oops_ ] and scooted out of the bakery without saying a word.

 

* * *

 

They defeat England a few days after the France game.  

 

USWNT 1 - England 0  

* * *

 

The National Team starts getting into a rhythm. After the win in England, the team travels home to the US for less than a week, only to turn around and head to the southern coast of Portugal to prepare for the Algarve Cup, a warm-up for the World Cup where they will meet Norway, Switzerland and Iceland in the group stages.

 

Tobin and Press have been getting along well. Tobin still feels a small amount of reticence from Christen when they interact, but it's much better than it was before they left for France. Tobin is just happy that she feels like they have the same goal in mind - to make progress through their matches, makes small improvements over time, be firing on all cylinders by June and ultimately, win the cup.  Everything else is just noise.

 

Still, Tobin catches herself during training on the first day, watching Press from the sideline during a small group scrimmage. Press is so fast and an absolute sniper with her passes. Tobin is amazed by her skill. But more than any skill Press might have, Tobin still sometimes imagines what it would be like to intertwine her fingers with Press’s long delicate fingers or kiss the nape of Christen’s neck.

 

_Tobin. Noise. Just noise._

 

Press comes off the pitch and stands next to Tobin. “I need to turn toward our defensive third on those pressured passes from the middle. Don’t you think?”

 

“It depends, but generally, yeah.” Tobin is looking at the back of Christen’s neck. She wants to take a bite of that soft caramel skin. _Get it together, Tobin._  “Honestly, I don’t think you need to worry so much about that. You are quicker than any defender at this tournament.”

 

“Am I quicker than you?” Christen asks.

 

Tobin thinks honestly about the question and then says “Yeah, probably,” but then adds “But I think I’m better in one on ones.”

 

“Thats fair,” says Christen, adding “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory.”

 

“What?”

 

Dawn is motioning for Christen to join a group at the far end of the field.

 

“Getting you one on one.” Christen smirks at Tobin, jogging backwards.

 

“Wait. What?” Tobin doesn’t understand what has just happened.

 

“Damn, girl!” Pinoe bumps up against Tobin. “She spicy!”

 

“Shut up. It's not like that anymore.” says Tobin.

 

“You sure?” Pinoe is smug as she walks away.

 

Tobin suddenly thinks. _Could Press be my girlfriend? Would she want to be after everything? I’ve never had a real relationship._ She suddenly thinks of Shirley and how they ended up together.

 

* * *

 

Her second week with Paris Saint Germain, after the team dinner debacle, and few other faux pas, including an unfortunate incident where Tobin underestimated Coach Farid Benstiti’s ability to accept feedback.  Tobin had gone to the bistro with Lindsey Horan and a few of their other teammates to blow off some steam at the beginning of a full three-day break.

 

Tobin has had two glasses of wine already, when Shirley Cruz, Costa Rica’s national team captain and PSG’s sturdy holding midfielder suddenly appears in the chair next to Tobin. “Alors as-tu une petite amie, Tobin?”  

 

“I’m sorry,” Tobin is mildly drunk now. “I have no idea what you just said.” She turns and sees Shirley’s equally wine-soaked expression.

 

“I asked ‘Do you have a girlfriend.’” says Shirley.

 

“Uh, non,” replies Tobin with a tipsy grin.

 

Shirley puts an elbow on the table and rests her cheek in her hand, still staring at Tobin. She eyes Tobin’s hand on the table, and lifting her own hand to Tobin’s, begins to trace delicate patterns on Tobin’s hand.  She smiles a flirtatious smile at Tobin. A smile that is impossible to misread, even for Tobin.

 

“Tu veux aller chez moi?” says Shirley.

 

Tobin doesn’t actually know what that means, but she gets the gist, considering Shirley’s expression.  Tobin feels the growing need as she looks at Shirley and her body’s response to Shirley’s touch.

 

_Why not?_

* * *

 

Two years later, Tobin realizes now that Shirley has been a proverbial lighthouse for her to return to between commitments. Not a home exactly, but something comfortable, someone to count on, even if she isn’t in love with her. Shirley has been waiting for Tobin to commit, but on some level, Tobin has always known it wasn’t the right thing to do.

 

Suddenly, Tobin remembers she has a promise she has to keep.

 

* * *

 

Later, Tobin phones Shirley, who is just getting back to Paris after time with the Costa Rican national team.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hola cariño,” Shirley says sweetly. “How have you been? It's been too long since we talked.”

 

“I was thinking about that. The Algarve ends in a few weeks. I was wondering if I can fly up to see you.” says Tobin. She feels guilty for the reasons she wants to talk to Shirley.

 

“I would love that!” Shirley is so excited.

 

They talk for a little while longer, but eventually Tobin has to go.

 

“I’ll see you soon, then.”

 

“No puedo esperar para verte.”

* * *

 

The US squad breeze through the group stages, beating Switzerland and Norway, easily.  Iceland on the other hand is fairly physical match. Carli Lloyd gets into a pissing match with one of their midfielders. One hard tackle too many, the culprit. The US manages to draw with Iceland, still putting them at the top of their group and on to a rematch with France in the final.

 

In the 41st minute of the final, Christen gets the ball at midfield and beats literally four French players and slots a goal into the far corner.  The US bench erupts in celebration. Tobin thinks, _Yeah, she can probably beat me on the dribble just with her speed._ Tobin vows to never admit that.

* * *

 

While the rest of the squad returns to the US before the next friendly and beginning of the “Send-off Series,” Tobin makes good on her promise and flies to Paris to see Shirley.

 

Tobin goes straight to Shirley’s apartment near the Parc des Princes where the PSG men’s team plays all their matches.  Tobin gets out of the car and looks up at the apartment she used to share with Shirley only a few years before. She glances up and down the Rue de l’Est.  The street looks exactly as before. Tobin loves the mix of old and new in Paris. Tobin loves the romance of Paris. This city is known for being on the bleeding edge of couture and haute cuisine. In the last half century, they’ve taken some chances with their architecture, including the Centre Pompidou and the Musée du quai Branly-Jacques Chirac with its amazing vertical garden. Still, there are buildings here that represent the essence of Paris and most of those buildings are literally ancient. The city is beautiful, of course, but Tobin doesn’t feel the same sort of comfort in Paris as she does in Portland and not because of the language barrier.  She’s never been able to quite put her finger on it.

 

“Tobin!” Shirley flies into the apartment corridor and throws her arms around Tobin.  She pulls Tobin into the apartment, pushes her against the door and presses her lips to Tobin’s.

 

Tobin at first feels a spark of passion kissing Shirley. She unconsciously pushes her thigh between Shirley’s legs. This is honestly one thing at which they’re both very good. She kisses Shirley for several seconds, but then remembers why she is here. She pulls away.

 

“Have you had dinner yet?” Tobin hasn’t eaten since this morning.

 

“Want to go down to Le Parc?” Shirley suggests. Tobin loves Le Parc. The bistro has the most delicious Boeuf Bourguignon Tobin has ever tasted, and of course it is her favorite.

 

“Yeah. Absolument.”

* * *

 

Over dinner, Shirley is staring as Tobin shovels food into her mouth and downs an entirely too expensive bottle of wine.  The other patrons realize after a few minutes that Tobin is an American. Tobin ordered a cafe crème before dinner. A gastronomic blunder, by any Parisian’s standards. There are a few disgusted glances thrown in their direction, but honestly, Tobin doesn’t care and neither does Shirley.  One of the advantages of being an outsider who doesn’t give a damn.

 

After an hour, Tobin and Shirley are more than a little drunk.  Something about the bistro’s soft lighting, delicious food, not to mention the wine, is making Tobin more than a little horny.

 

Shirley immediately recognizes that expression and calls the waiter over for the check.

 

When they get back to the apartment, Shirley immediately pulls Tobin by the hand into the bedroom and pushes her backwards onto the bed.  Tobin falls backwards drunkenly, with her feet still hanging over the edge of the bed. Shirley says nothing but makes quick work of Tobin’s boots and then undoes Tobin’s pants and edges them down.  When she has them off, she plants herself between Tobin legs and begins to pull Tobin’s shirt off. She undoes Tobin’s bra until Tobin is naked from the waist up.

 

Tobin eventually sits up and says incoherently, “I have to tell you something.”

 

“Shhh Mi Amor...it can wait.” Shirley eases Tobin onto her back as she slips a finger over the waistband of Tobins underwear and pulls them down.

 

Before long, Tobin is arching her back as she comes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to give y'all a present to celebrate. Let me know what you think. and there’s another chapter after...

Mistakes are a part of being human. Appreciate your mistakes for what they are: precious life lessons that can only be learned the hard way. -- Al Franken

 

* * *

 

Tobin feels heat on her exposed back from the sun sneaking through the blinds and realizes it's already late in the morning. She squints with one eye and rolls onto her back and then opening the other eye, eventually pulls the ceiling into focus.  Tobin puts a hand to her aching head and suddenly recognizes the room and remembers last night.

 

_Fuck._

 

Tobin looks over and sees Shirley, naked and still asleep, her shoulders exposed.  Tobin smacks her lips together and puts a hand to her face.

 

_Yep. We did that._ Tobin sighs.

 

Tobin gets up and pads to the bathroom.  As she’s washing her hands, she looks at herself and realizes how much harder it will be to tell Shirley about Christen. Tobin hears Shirley stirring in the bedroom. Tobin finds her pants and shoes haphazardly thrown in the corner of the room.

 

“Good Morning,” Tobin says from the foot of the bed.

 

Shirley rolls onto her back and puts her arms up, coaxing Tobin back into the bed.  Tobin feels guilty, even though she knows she hasn’t done anything wrong really. Tobin slips back between the sheets and gives Shirley a quick peck.

 

“Est-ce que tous les bisous?” Shirley pouts, pulling the sheet back to expose her breasts.

 

Tobin cares for Shirley. They have hardly ever fought. They understand each other and then of course, they know how to fuck the daylights out of each other.  It's the last thought, sparked by Shirley’s breasts that Tobin focuses on as she leans over Shirley and kisses her gently. Tobin gets lost in the kiss and eventually finds herself between Shirley’s thighs again.  Several minutes later, Shirley cries out with Tobin still moving between her legs.

 

* * *

 

 

It's early afternoon when Tobin and Shirley are finally too hungry to stay in bed any longer.  Tobin takes a shower while Shirley makes a brunch of eggs with rice and beans.

 

Tobin is genuinely happy to be here with Shirley, but knows she is going to have to come clean at some point.  She’s not sure how to do it. In the meantime, Shirley has opened one of the casement windows in this old apartment to let in the cool Parisian spring air. 

 

It's early March in Paris and the city is showing signs of life after a long winter.

 

Tobin looks out the window at the nearly-budding honey locust trees lining the street.  The trees aren’t indigenous to France. They were at some point imported from the United States because of their ability to grow quickly, and resist among other things, drought and less than perfect soil. The dappled shade they provide along this busy Paris thoroughfare is by design. Paris city planners have long known what sort of natural feng shui is needed to drive housing and commercial demand up in a city already overly expensive. Tobin knows these trees because they are the exact trees that line the street of her childhood home in New Jersey.

 

It's a weekday in Paris, and the streets are busy. Tobin and Shirley enjoy coffee and brunch next to the window and people watch for several minutes from the tiny balcony above the busy Rue de l’Est.

 

“Shirley?”

 

“Yes, Tobin?”

 

“Can we talk about something?”

 

“Okay.” Shirley sits up straight, a curious look on her face.

 

“I need to tell you something.” Tobin’s face betrays her anxiety and reluctance.

 

Shirley frowns.

 

_Just do it, Tobin._

 

“I met someone.”

 

Tobin waits for a reaction but Shirley’s expression doesn’t change.

 

“Nothing has happened. And I don’t know if anything will. I just needed to be truthful with you and tell you how I’ve been feeling.” Tobin’s heart feels raw with guilt.

 

Shirley is silent for far too long.  “Is this why you came here?” Shirley asks.

 

“Yes and no. I wanted to see you. I still like hanging out with you. I just needed to be honest about how I have been feeling about this other person.”

 

Shirley says nothing and looks at the floor. 

 

Tobin continues, “It's also not fair to you. I’m no longer here with PSG and I can only see you a few times a year. It just doesn’t make sense for you to wait for me. My contract with Portland is for another five years.”  Tobin searches Shirley’s face for any reaction.

 

Eventually Shirley looks up at Tobin, a flicker of anger in her eyes “What was last night? And this morning?”

 

Tobin sighs. She has no excuses. “I don’t know.” Tobin shakes her head. “Obviously I’m still attracted to you…. It's just...complicated.”

 

“But you don’t love me, do you.” It's more a statement than a question. Shirley waits for Tobin’s answer.

 

“I love you. I just...I don’t know if I’m IN love with you.” Tobin feels sick at the harshness of her own words.

 

“So, I’m just someone to fuck.” Another statement.

 

“No.” Tobin shakes her head.

 

“You just fucked me. And you don’t love me,” says Shirley, stating the obvious.

 

“It's not that simple.” Tobin pleads.

 

“Es simple para mi.”  Shirley gets up and picks up her plate and puts it in the sink.

 

“Shirley, please. I came here because I wanted to be truthful with you. Last night, that was real. This morning - that was real.” Tobin stands up and walks into the kitchen and stands next to Shirley.

 

Shirley walks back into the living room and sits down on the couch.  She crosses her arms as Tobin sits next to her.

 

“Tell me about this girl.” Shirley says looking Tobin in the eye.

 

Tobin takes a deep breath.  She doesn’t want to tell Shirley this, but she deserves to know the truth.

 

“I’ve known her for a long time.” Tobin begins, “we actually played against each other in college...”  Tobin tells the story as truthfully as she possibly can, even including some details that she knows will likely be hard for Shirley to stomach. When she is done, she waits quietly for Shirley to say something.

 

“So you’re just friends now?” Shirley asks.

 

“I don’t know,” Tobin says sheepishly.

 

“So you came here to tell me that you have feelings for a girl you pissed off, who you’ve never slept with, and you’re not sure even wants to be with you?”  Shirley asks.

 

Tobin sighs and then replies “Yes.”

 

Shirley looks at the floor. “You’re like a Dostoyevsky novel.” Shirley looks at Tobin and then smiles ruefully, “I hate to say this, but that almost makes me love you more.”  Shirley laughs a quiet and bitter laugh.

 

Tobin feels the pain in her heart and wants to laugh and cry at the same time.  Tobin moves closer and puts her arms around Shirley. When Tobin pulls away, Shirley has tears in her eyes.

 

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” Shirley says sincerely. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I think I knew you would eventually leave. You are too much of a free spirit, Tobin. I can’t help but be a little angry at you right now, but I respect you for coming here to tell me.” 

 

Tobin can’t think of anything to say in that moment.  Shirley’s response is indicative of the kind of person she is, level-headed, honest and direct. It's no wonder she is the captain of the fiery Costa Rican squad. Eventually, Shirley tells Tobin what she really needs now.

 

“I think you should go.”

 

“Okay.” Tobin’s eyes start to sting. It has never occurred to Tobin that she could lose Shirley, too.  The truth is Shirley is one of her touchstones. Someone she can tell almost anything. She walks into the bedroom and zips up her bag and rolls it into the living room. “Can I call you?”

 

Shirley shakes her head, not looking at Tobin. “Te llamaré cuando esté lista.”

 

Tobin walks over and kisses Shirley on her tear-stained cheek.  Shirley looks at Tobin one last time and says “Tobin, tell her the truth too.” Shirley turns and looks out the window.

 

Tobin’s chest feels like an open wound as she takes a last look at Shirley, and then walks out the door.

  


* * *

* * *

 

 

It's less than ten days before Tobin has to report again to camp in Carson, California. Losing Shirley was the last thing Tobin had expected to happen. She decides to sneak into L.A. before camp so that she can get some time to herself. Tobin finds a bungalow in Redondo Beach, a few blocks from the beach.

 

Whenever her complicated and overscheduled world gets to be too much, Tobin knows how to find a place where she can focus on becoming herself again.

 

Tobin spends the first day thinking, crying and sleeping. She gets up a few times to catch a football game or two on the tv.  Eventually, Tobin FaceTimes her mother.

 

“Hi Mom.”

 

“Hi, honey. How are you?”

 

“Not great, Mom.” Tobin hasn’t showered in a few days and it shows.

 

“Oh no.”

 

“I just got back from Paris.” Tobin pulls a hand down her cheek and doesn’t look into the phone.

 

Tobin’s mother leans her phone against her coffee cup, pulls a stool up and sits down. She knows exactly what has happened long before Tobin ever tells her.

 

* * *

 

Tobin steps out midweek very early in the morning to get coffee. As she walks to the nearest coffee shop she notices the sky is the strikingly deep blue that only seems to happen in Los Angeles. Tobin smiles a little. She thanks God for the weather. She eventually makes it down to Manhattan Beach to surf, but this year, Los Angeles in March is cold and the surf biting and uninviting, so Tobin parks herself on a low wall next to the walkway with a cup of coffee so that she can take in the sound of the ocean and watch pickup games in the sand.

 

A few days later, Tobin decides to find a few books for the upcoming camp.  She heads to her favorite, The Last Bookstore.

 

The Last Bookstore occupies multiple levels of an enormous converted bank in downtown L.A.. Tobin loves coming here because it is easy to spend hours getting lost in the stacks and stacks of new and used books.  

 

Tobin prefers used books.  If a book is dog-eared or has liner notes or even contains a note written on the inside cover, Tobin is more likely to buy the book.  To her it means that the book meant something to someone and is therefore in some way, more valuable. Every so often, Tobin will find a hand-written letter that had been used as a bookmark or even as a place to store some precious personal note, that someone has eventually forgotten. 

 

Tobin is wandering through the used fiction paperbacks, when she eyes what appears to be the corner of an envelope sticking out of the edge of a book.  Tobin’s heart lights at the discovery. She pulls the book from the shelf. It’s a copy of Toni Morrison’s _Beloved_ .  She pulls the envelope from the middle of the book. A name is written on the envelope - _Sophia_.  The note inside written in a struggling but beautiful cursive.

  
  
  


_January 9, 1989_

 

_My Love,_

 

_This is not what we ever expected.  I thought we had forever, but I realize now that my time on this earth is ending soon. I have to write this while I still have the strength. My hand hurts with all these damn needles._

 

_I was thinking about that time when we were still young and stupid. How we went up Runyon to the Clouds Rest and looked out at the city at night. How we made love under those stars. I thought I would never be so happy as I was then. I remember looking at your face in the moonlight and thinking I never wanted to go another day without looking in your eyes._

 

_You have been the greatest mother to our children. They’ve grown strong and independent under your watchful eye. I’m giving you all the credit for that. They’ve known all their lives that they had me wrapped around their little fingers!_

 

_Thank you for being patient with me. I could be a pistol. I know it. There was no one I wanted to talk to at the end of the day more than you. I could say I love you for your laugh, or for how beautiful you are in your favorite dress. The truth is, I love you, because there was no way for me not to._

 

_Thank you, for creating this dream of a life I’ve had the privilege of living these short forty some years._

 

_I go to my maker knowing that I became what I was meant to be--_

 

_Yours._

 

_Samuel_

  


Tobin can’t hold back the tears as she finishes the note.  She wonders about Samuel and Sophia hiking through Runyon Canyon. A trek, Tobin has made numerous times. She imagines them in their house, with children fighting for their attention. Samuel giving in to a daughter or a son, much to the chagrin of his wife. She imagines them hearing the terrible news for the first time and their resolve to make it through the unimaginable. She imagines Sophia taking this last love note and tucking it into her favorite book.  

 

Tobin wipes tears from her cheeks. Even though Tobin has read _Beloved_ before, she walks toward the checkout, the book and letter in hand.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Tobin is happy to see Pinoe the first day back in camp. Tobin is feeling more relaxed, but still saddened by the events in Paris a few weeks earlier.

 

“Hey woman. You have a decent break?” Pinoe is her normal gregarious self.

 

Tobin looks at Pinoe, her expression a rueful grin, and says “Comme ci, comme ça.”

 

“Uh oh. What happened? Tell mama.” Pinoe whips a chair around in the meeting room and rests her elbows and chin on the back of the chair, waiting for Tobin.

 

“I broke up with Shirley,” says Tobin.

 

“Oh shit.” Pinoe says sadly. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

 

“I told her about Christen.” Tobin says reluctantly.

 

Pinoe puts her hand on her forehead. “Oh man. Tobin, I’m sorry.”

 

“I had to do it. I had to tell her the truth.” Then Tobin adds, “the thing is I still kind of screwed up while I was there…” Tobin’s face is knot of remorse.

 

“Oh shit. What?”

 

“Well... before I told her…” Tobin shakes her head. She can’t believe this is her life sometimes. 

 

Pinoe believes it. “No…”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Tobin.” Pinoe scolds.

 

“I know.”

 

“What were you thinking?”

 

“Well, that’s the thing about...that. You generally don’t think about much else when you’re doing it.”

 

“Oh well, at least you got to do it one last time.” Pinoe always looks at the bright side.

 

“Actually…”

 

“Oh no…” Pinoe smiles and shakes her head.

 

“Yeah. We did it like five times.” Tobin winces.

 

“Jesus, Tobin. Maybe you shouldn’t have broken up with her.” Pinoe grins at Tobin.

 

“Jesus had nothing to do with it.” Tobin mashes her remorseful expression in her hands and realizes the absurdity of the situation.  She shakes her head and smiles at Pinoe. Pinoe chuckles at her moderately hot mess of a friend.

 

* * *

 

 

USWNT have one more friendly against New Zealand before a break sends them back to their domestic league teams for a few weeks.

 

The team boards a plane bound for St. Louis a few days before the game.  Halfway through the flight, Tobin takes out her copy of _Beloved_ , and re-reads Samuel’s letter to Sophia.

 

“What is that?”  Tobin looks up. Christen is occupying the seat across the aisle now. She’s eyeing the piece of paper in Tobin’s hand.

 

“Oh. Hi.” Tobin is so happy to see Christen. “It's a letter I found.”

 

“You’ve been carrying it around?” Christen is curious.

 

“Yeah.” says Tobin meekly. Christen eyes the letter.

 

“Must be some letter.” Christen obviously wants to read it.

 

Tobin pauses, looking at Christen looking at the letter. Tobin folds it and puts it in the envelope and then hands the envelope to Christen.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.” Tobin smiles at Christen. Christen has her hair in a loose bun and even in the dim light of this plane, is positively lovely.

 

Christen turns the envelope over and reads the name softly. “Sophia.” She looks up at Tobin, who is thrilled that Christen gets to experience the same magic of this love letter.

 

Christen handles the envelope delicately. She takes the letter out, unfolds it and begins to read.

 

Tobin watches Christen closely for her reaction. A few seconds into reading the note, Christen’s right hand goes up to her mouth.  Tobin can see Christen’s reaction clearly. Her eyes become glassy and when she’s done, tears roll down her cheeks as she carefully folds the letter and puts it back in the envelope.  She looks at Tobin and smiles, handing back the precious note.

 

“That’s amazing.” Christen says, wiping her tears.

 

“It is, isn’t it.”  Tobin’s heart feels strangely full at this moment.  _What is it about this girl?_

 

“Do you know them?” asks Christen.

 

“No,” replies Tobin. She holds up her copy of _Beloved_. “I was at the Last Bookstore and stumbled on the book and the note was inside.”

 

“Lucky. Oh. _Beloved_. I love that book.” says Christen.

 

“Yeah. Me too.” Tobin has been a Toni Morrison fan since she was in college.  Her favorite is the _Bluest Eye_.

 

“I love Toni Morrison,” Christen says wistfully. “The _Bluest Eye_ is my favorite.”

 

Tobin grins.  

 

_Of course it is._

 

“Thanks for sharing your letter,” says Christen.

 

“It's not my letter. It's Sophia’s. I’m just...the caretaker, now.” Tobin smiles at Christen.

 

Something in Christen’s expression shifts. There’s a softening as she looks at Tobin. A recognition of...something. Tobin can’t tell.  Christen is stifling a sniffle as she turns her head. Tobin’s heart beats hard and fast.

 

* * *

 

 

During dinner that evening with the rest of the team, television cameras and photographers are in the restaurant where the team and staff are having a meal. It's the last camp and friendly before the final World Cup Roster is set.  It's the start of the media ramp-up on the World Cup in only a few months. Everyone is on their best behavior.

 

Tobin takes a seat at a long table and suddenly finds Press on her right.  Christen is looking at Tobin with a muted but similar expression as she had on the plane earlier.

 

“Hi.” Christen says softly.

 

“Hi.” Tobin can feel her face getting hot.

 

“Is it always like this?” This is Christen’s first potential World Cup tournament.  She looks around obviously intimidated by all the media.

 

“Like what?”

 

“All of the media coming to dinner.” Christen looks around, not wanting to be caught on a microphone.

 

“No, it's not always like this,” Tobin says.

 

“Oh good.” Christen says.

 

Tobin is almost deadpan as she says, “the truth is it's usually much much worse. They’ll be there in the morning when you’re getting coffee, they’ll want to see you getting on the bus, getting off the bus, walking into practice, into meetings, into the hotel, out of the hotel. They will try to catch you during every minute of every day, in the hopes that you’ll provide something for them to sink their teeth into.” 

 

Christen’s mouth is open. She says nothing, so Tobin continues. “So, a word of advice. Keep a schedule of when the press is around. Know who’s who. Some of the press is super cool. Some are not. Don’t get upset when they are literally six inches from your face. Be polite, even when someone asks you something stupid, or the same question you’ve already been asked thirty times in a single day. Don’t comment on politics. Stay off social media unless absolutely necessary. Do not give your phone number to anyone in the press. Molly keeps burner phones around if you need to do an interview. Do all that and you’ll be good to go.” Tobin grins, realizing she’s rattled Press.

 

Christen still says nothing.

 

Tobin doesn’t really know what else to say, so she picks up a menu and says to Christen, who is still looking at her in shock,  “I think I might have the steak.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, the USWNT makes quick work of New Zealand.

 

New Zealand, 0 - United States, 4

 

* * *

 

 

After the last friendly, all the players return to the domestic league for the start of the NWSL season while Coach Ellis and her staff finalize the World Cup squad. 

 

Tobin is starting to feel more like herself. Back in Portland, she’s finally in her element. She and Alex are finally in the apartment together.  The Thorns full squad is finally back together. For Tobin, everything just feels better.

 

A few days later, Tobin gets a phone call from Jill Ellis.

 

“Tobs.”

 

“Hey Jill.”

 

“I’m calling to tell you, you made the World Cup team.”

 

This is Tobins second World Cup, but this feels more special. She has worked so hard and been through so much.

 

“Thanks, Jill.” Tobin’s eyes are watery. After she gets off the phone, she calls her Mom, sisters and brother.  She wonders if Christen got the call too.

 

A few hours later, Tobin gets a text message.

 

8:34pm

**I made it. :-)**

**I’m on the team.**

 

It's from Christen.

 

Tobin’s heart beats faster. She has never gotten a text from Christen before. In this moment she’s so relieved and happy.

 

8:35pm

**That is so fantastic.**

**Congratulations. You deserve it.**

 

8:35pm

**You might not believe me, but**

**I couldn’t have done it without you.**

**Thank you.**

 

Tobin doesn’t know how to respond. She has no idea what to say.  So she says nothing.

 

A few weeks later, Tobin is with Portland and the Thorns in Chicago to battle the Red Stars for the first time this season. It's the last match before the USWNT reports for the Send-off Series.  

 

Chicago is one of Tobin’s favorite cities. Chicago, although an enormous city, still has a midwestern sensibility. For Tobin, it is the best foodie city in the United States. Where else can you get an Italian beef sandwich, deep dish pizza and Chicago-style hotdogs? When Christen was traded to Chicago, Tobin thought right away, that it would be Christen’s kind of food town. Later, Tobin discovered Press was a mostly non-dairy vegetarian.

 

Tobin sees Christen during warm-ups. Christen is in her Red Stars home whites at the top of the 18 yard box by herself with about 20 balls. Tobin watches, fascinated, as Christen takes ten shots with her left foot and then ten with her right. Far post, near post, on the ground, in the air - all of them go in.

 

_Whoa._

 

In the first half, Tobin gets caught Christen-watching more than once. Christen blows by her a few times and Tobin seems powerless to stop her or keep up with her.

 

Press has already scored twice in the first ten minutes, when Coach Riley pulls Tobin aside.

 

“What in the fucking hell are you doing out there, Heath?” Paul Riley is seething.

 

“I’m sorry coach. I’ll get it together.” Tobin runs back out onto the field.

 

“You’d better, Heath!” Coach yells after her.

 

In the twenty-ninth minute, Portland’s Christine Sinclair takes a wild swing at a ball.  The ball, out of sheer luck, trickles into the net at the far post.  

 

Chicago, 2 - Portland, 1

 

Following the break at the half, Tobin is walking out of the tunnel back to the field when she spots Press ahead of her.  She runs up and taps Christen on the shoulder.

 

“Hey, take it easy on me, okay?” Tobin says jokingly, looking Christen in those green eyes.

 

Christen smirks as she jogs away. “Never!”

 

Tobin stops in her tracks, shakes her head and smiles as she watches Christen jog to her team’s bench. She looks to the sky for help.

 

_Please Lord. Help me find a way to not be an idiot around this girl. First help me beat her today, but then show me how not to be an idiot._

 

In the first ninety seconds of the second half, Mana Shim gets a pass from Tobin and from far left outside the 18-yard box, smacks the mirror image of the ball Christine Sinclair hit at the other end of the field.  It too, trickles into the net at the far post.

 

Chicago, 2 - Portland, 2

 

The game ends in a disappointing draw for both teams.  Tobin makes her way around the field to shake hands with the Red Stars.  When she finally reaches Christen, she goes to shake her hand, but Christen puts her arms around Tobin’s neck and pulls her into an embrace instead. 

 

_Whoa._

 

Tobin, doesn’t know how to react.  She’s at once overwhelmed by the feeling of Christen’s body. Christen smells faintly of sweat, honey and lavender. Tobin puts her hands around Christen’s waist and finds her fingertips in the small of Christen’s muscular and defined back. 

 

It does something to Tobin.

 

“Good game.” Christen holds on for a moment, and when she finally releases Tobin, says “Next time, watch the ball instead of me.” Christen smirks.

 

_What?_

 

Tobin’s mouth falls open. She feels her face turning red.  

 

She’s about to say something when Christen suddenly asks “When are you flying back?”

 

“Uh, not until afternoon, I think.” Tobin wonders what is happening.

 

“Do you have time to meet me for coffee in the morning?” Christen has her hands on her hips, waiting for Tobin’s answer.  Tobin notices a cut above Christen’s knee and wonders how that happened. Tobin looks up and realizes Christen is still waiting for an answer.

 

“Uh, yeah. I have time, I think.” Tobin feels like she might pass out.

 

_C’mon Tobin. Get it together_.

 

“Good. Is 9am too early? Are you guys at the Renaissance downtown?”

 

“Yeah.” Tobin realizes she’s never had a conversation quite like this with Christen.

 

“Cool. I’ll come down and get you. Okay?” says Christen.

 

“Okay.” With that Christen smiles one last time at Tobin and walks back to her team in the middle of the field.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin’s roommate recognizes that Tobin is a little stressed out when she gets back to the room later.

 

“You okay, Tobs?” Alex Morgan is going through sponsorship proposals.  Alex has, in the few years since her iconic game-winning header in the Olympics, been marked as the face of the US Women’s National Team. That single event has created all sorts of opportunities for Alex, but she has no illusions at this point of the tradeoffs she’s made between leading a “normal” life and the one she has chosen. Morgan has an almost zen-like response to every excited fan she meets. Since that defining moment, Alex has learned how to ignore the noise, including literally hundreds of people yelling her name during a match.  Still, Alex is tuned in to her flustered friend in this moment. 

 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Tobin says, adding “Christen asked me to meet her tomorrow for coffee.”

 

“And?” Alex doesn’t understand the big deal. Alex knows this entire story but was under the impression that the possibility of a Tobin and Christen ship had passed.

 

Tobin is silent for too long. Alex stops what she’s doing and comes over and sits next to Tobin.

 

“Okay, what is going on?” Alex lays on the bed.

 

“I don’t know. It's hard for me to read her.” Tobin says. “I feel like we flirt with each other a lot. At this point, I think I know how I feel.”  Tobin looks over at Alex, shocked she’s going to admit this. It's taken her so long to just be okay with the idea of wanting what she wants. This is the only thing that makes sense.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about her. She makes me crazy when I’m around her, in a good way. I want her. I want to be with her.”  Tobin takes a deep breath after her admission.

 

“Wow.” Alex replies. “And what do you think is happening tomorrow?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“Well, I guess you’re gonna find out.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Tobin rolls her bag down to the concierge and asks them to store it til she’s able to pick it up on the way to the airport.  None of Tobin’s Thorn’s teammates are up yet. Most of them are still on West Coast time. Tobin has never had a problem getting quickly acclimated to a new time zone.

 

It's nearly 9am when Tobin gets a text from Christen.

 

8:57am

**Hi. I’m outside.**

  


8:57am

**Ok**

  


Tobin steps outside and sees Christen waving from the back seat of what Tobin assumes is an Uber.

 

“Hi” Christen says softly.

 

“Hi,” Tobin tries to calm herself. “Where are we going?”

 

“Dollop.” says Christen. “You ever been there?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“You’ll love it.”

 

* * *

 

 

On the ride to Dollop, Tobin takes note of Christen’s appearance. Christen is wearing her Red Stars pullover, black skinny jeans and white Chuck Taylors. It's still cold in Chicago even though it's already late in April. The truth is, Christen could be wearing a garbage bag and Tobin would still think she is gorgeous.

 

At Dollop, Tobin and Christen both order their usual coffees. Tobin gets a cherry danish as well.

 

When they’re finally seated with their coffees and food, Christen says to Tobin, “Thank you.”

 

Tobin has just taken a sip of her coffee and bite of her food and temporarily unable to speak. 

 

“What are you thanking me for?” she says, finally.

 

“I want to thank you for being such an amazing person. For helping me reach my goals. My dreams.” Christen’s expression turns remorseful. “And I want to apologize for everything that happened. It took me a long time, but I finally realized I had nothing to be angry about with you. You handled everything truthfully and graciously. I can’t say the same for me. Again, I’m so sorry.”  

 

Tobin isn’t sure what to say, so she says simply “You don’t need to apologize to me, but, thank you. The truth is I think I could have handled things better too.”

 

There’s more that Tobin wants to say, but can’t seem to bring herself to say the words. Christen artfully changes the subject.

 

“That letter you have. It really moved me.” says Christen earnestly. She looks like she’s trying to say something else. Finally, she asks “Why do you carry it around?”

 

Tobin puts her coffee down.  She’s never thought about that before.  The letter is actually at her feet in her backpack.  It's always there.

 

Tobin’s heart feels raw and open. Finally, she admits “I carry that letter around to remind myself that kind of love exists. I wanna have that someday... I want to deserve it.”

 

“Do you think you don’t deserve it?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe? Sometimes?” Tobin feels like she’s not making sense.

 

“I think whoever gets to be with you is gonna be very lucky.” Christen says sincerely.

 

“Shirley and I broke up.”

 

“I heard. I’m sorry.” 

 

“Thanks.” Tobin feels the faint sting of that moment from weeks ago.  She considers telling Christen the reason why she and Shirley broke up.  She says nothing instead.

 

Tobin and Christen sit in silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee and mulling over the conversation.  Eventually Christen breaks the silence.

 

“You remember when you asked me if we could be friends?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And I said I wasn’t sure?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, I was hoping...you and I...could... be friends.” Christen searches Tobin’s expression for an answer.

 

“I would like that.” Tobin feels like she could cry and it shows on her face.

 

Christen smiles her incredible smile and all is right with the world.

 

* * *

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just cuz I think we all deserve it... a little shorter, but to the point. And don't worry, there's more to come...

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope. -- Maya Angelou

 

* * *

 

 

The USWNT are a wrecking crew through their Send-off Series starting with a win against Ireland in San Jose on Mothers Day.  The team’s mothers are brought in as a surprise during dinner the night before. Tobin is completely stunned to see her mom, who she hasn’t seen since Christmas.  

 

“Mom, I want you to meet someone.” Tobin is giddy.

 

“Oh, who?” Tobin’s mom is grinning with anticipation.

 

“You know.” Tobin says with quiet excitement. “Her.” She grabs her mother’s hand and leads her through the pack of laughing and crying teammates and mothers.

 

Tobin sees Christen from the other side of the room. Tobin points at her mother and motions that she is coming over to make introductions.  Christen smiles nervously.

 

“Mom, this is Christen.”  Tobin’s mother plays it cool, as much as she can.

 

“It's so nice to meet you, Christen. I’ve heard such nice things about you.” She shakes Christen’s hand and then unexpectedly, goes in for a hug. Tobin rolls her eyes.

 

“Oh you have?” Christen is genuinely surprised by not just the unexpected hug but that Tobin has said anything about her to her mother. She gives Tobin a look that says _“We’ll talk about this later.”_

 

“Of course!” Tobin’s mom turns to Christen’s mother and holds her hand out “You must be Christen’s mother. I’m Tobin’s mom, Cindy.”

 

“Stacey Press, nice to meet you.” Tobin notices Christen has her mother’s beautiful eyes. “You’re Tobin’s mother? Christen talks nonstop about Tobin!”

 

Christen and Tobin are looking at each other with mildly alarmed expressions.

 

Thankfully, several of the players and their moms are being interviewed for a segment and Tobin is up next with her mother. A production assistant suddenly appears to take them to the interview. Tobin starts to walk away, grinning at Christen as she’s led away.  Christen gives Tobin the stink-eye as soon as Tobin’s mother is facing in the other direction.

 

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Tobin’s mother says “Tobin, I had no idea she was so pretty! That’s quite the looker you have.”

 

“We’re not together, Mom. We’re just friends.” says Tobin.

 

“Wait. What? You’re not together?”

 

“No. We haven’t gotten that far yet, Mom. We’re just trying to be friends for the time-being.” Tobin is embarrassed to be talking about this with her mother.

 

“Is there something wrong with this girl that you haven’t told me about? Where did she go to school? Did you say?” Tobin’s mother has her arms crossed.

 

“Stanford.”

 

“Oh! Smart school! Is she smart?”

 

Tobin is getting annoyed with all the questions. “Yes, Mom. She is very smart.”

 

“Hmm. Educated, pretty, smart, great at soccer...oh and you like her. Still doesn’t make sense to me why you aren’t together. It's obvious to me she likes you.” Tobin’s mom knows she’s driving Tobin crazy.  She only gets to do this once or twice a year, so she’ll take what she can get.

 

“Mom, please…” Tobin pleads. Tobin’s mother smiles and kisses her daughter on the forehead, brushing Tobin’s messy locks behind her ear.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Fast forward to the final versus Japan.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin is in the starting lineup for the final versus Japan. BC Place in Vancouver is awash in red, white and blue.  You’d think they were at home, how much support they have from American supporters. Carli Lloyd has a dream start to the final, getting a hattrick in the first fifteen minutes.  Lauren Holiday adds another, and then Tobin gets the fifth goal. The clock eventually winds down. The whistle blows. Tobin sees Carli Lloyd fall to her knees on the other side of the field.

 

USWNT, 5 - Japan, 2

 

_We did it._

 

The team is celebrating, laughing and running around out onto the field with American flags.  Tobin is so happy, but she wants to share the moment with Christen. She eventually finds Christen standing by herself searching the stands for someone familiar, but it's pandemonium and Christen is overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment and not being able to find her family.  Tobin runs up to hug her, but when she pulls away, Christen is in tears. “We did it.” says Tobin gently. Christen can only cry harder. She walks with Christen up onto the podium and as the World Cup Trophy is presented, Tobin wipes the tears from Christen’s cheeks, and puts her arm around Christen so that they can celebrate the moment together. 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

It's utter madness for months after the final. Celebrations in Los Angeles and New York. In New York they have a ticker tape parade down the Canyon of Heroes.  The USWNT are busy doing interviews and awards shows, magazine covers, and sponsorship commitments, all while trying to play through their NWSL season and a victory tour around the country.

 

Tobin and Christen are sitting next to each other on the bus regularly now. On this day, they’re in Orlando on their way to the second of a pair of matches against Brazil.

 

“Hey Tobin, can I talk to you about something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Christen looks around to see if anyone is paying attention. They’re aren’t. 

 

“ESPN offered me the body issue for next year.” Christen waits for Tobin’s response.

 

“Wait. What?” Tobin frowns. She doesn’t understand. “Is that...is that the one where you pose..uh...nude?”

 

“Shhh. I don’t want everyone to know.” Christen says, alarmed. “Yes, it's the one where I’d pose nude.”

 

“Why would you do that?” Tobin is dismayed. She hates the idea of the entire world getting to see Christen’s body.

 

_I haven’t seen your body yet, dammit_.

 

“Well for one, it would give me exposure, so to speak. Second, I’m getting _paid_.” Christen whispers. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset.”

 

Tobin wants to be supportive. It's Christen’s decision, after all. It’s her body. She can do with it what she wants. She takes a deep breath.

 

“Can I at least be there when you do it?” Tobin says reluctantly.

 

Christen smiles softly at Tobin, “I was going to ask you if you could be there with me.”

 

“Okay.” Tobin is still unsatisfied.

 

“Thank you.” Christen smiles and Tobin’s anxiety almost disappears.

 

* * *

 

 

The last game of the victory tour is at the Superdome in New Orleans. Tobin and Press are roommates once again.  On this day, it also just happens to be Abby Wambach’s last game as well. Everyone is excited but also sad. In the second half, Abby comes out of the game, replaced by none other than Christen Press.  It's a bittersweet moment. Abby has accomplished all she set out to do, winning a world championship, the Olympics and also the domestic league championship. She has the highest international goal tally of any player; man, or woman - 184 goals.  The US loses their last game of the year to China. 

 

Afterwards, the team has gathered at the House of Blues in the French Quarter to celebrate Abby’s retirement. Tobin was somehow lucky enough to get to sit next to Press.

 

“I can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.” Christen is, like most of her teammates, saddened by the proceedings.  None of them really want to see Abby retire.

 

“I dunno. I think she knows she’s ready. She’s ready for whatever is next,” says Tobin watching Abby smile and laugh a few tables over. “I’ve watched her change and grow for so many years now. She’s going out on a high. She just won the World Cup. She got married a few years ago. I know she wants what I want some day, a family and life beyond football. And even though she’s accomplished all of this, I’ve heard her say that she’s just getting started.” Tobin is smiling but looks as though she may cry as she watches Abby.

 

“I feel like I’m just getting started,” Christen says.

 

“I think you are too.” says Tobin, who turns and finds Christen staring intensely at her. 

 

Tobin’s stomach quivers as she resists the urge to look away and returns Christen’s gaze. Seemingly, the noise and clatter in the House of Blues seems to fall away. Tobin is overwhelmed by Christen’s surreal beauty and feels like her heart may stop. Tobin feels herself shaking as she looks at Christen and realizes... It's been so long that she’s felt this...for this...one...girl. _So, so long..._  After a moment, she’s no longer able to hold in her thoughts.

 

“I think…I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Tobin says, shivering as she says the words..

 

Christen says nothing, but her expression reveals everything as she gazes and smiles softly at Tobin.

 

“Hey we’re going down the street to do karaoke. Wanna go?” Pinoe asks as she is pulling on her jacket.

 

Tobin looks at Christen, who with a single glance gives the answer.

 

Tobin says “I think we might go back to the hotel. We’re both pretty tired.”

 

“Oh okay! You're loss. See you later Tobs. See ya Press.” Pinoe winks at Tobin from behind Christen’s shoulder. Tobin can’t help but grin.

 

The party begins to move outside. The group starts to disperse and reform into other groups either going back to the hotel or to continue the party at another bar.

 

It's cold this evening, by Louisiana standards, not quite 70℉. Tobin is appropriately dressed, jeans, a t-shirt, boots and a leather jacket. But Christen is wearing a coral sleeveless dress, a bit too light for the cool New Orleans evening, especially for a California girl used to warmer weather.

 

Tobin sees Christen shivering in the NOLA moonlight.

 

“Here take this.” Tobin hands over her leather jacket.

 

“Oh. Thank you,” says Christen laying it over a shoulder before pulling it on completely.

 

Tobin tugs on the sleeve. “It looks good on you.”

 

“Thanks, I have one just like it.” Christen says.

 

The group begins to move toward the karaoke bar and hotel.  Tobin and Christen walk together, lagging behind the rest of the group. Tobin and Christen’s arms bump occasionally as they walk. Tobin catches her breath each time.

 

Suddenly, Tobin feels Christen’s fingers slip between hers.  Tobin looks down. Yes, she’s holding hands with Christen Press. She looks over at Christen with a half-grin.  Christen is looking at her with an intensity she hasn’t seen before.

 

They keep walking in silence. Tobin can feel...something happening between them as they walk.  She looks at Christen again who has the same look as before.

 

Eventually, Christen stops walking but is still holding Tobin’s hand. Tobin looks up the street. The other girls have already turned the corner. 

 

Tobin turns and looks at Christen. Christen glances over her shoulder at an ivy-covered gate that’s ajar. She pulls Tobin gently, leading her into the unlit garden walkway of a creole townhouse.  Tobin doesn’t know what is happening at first.

 

Christen rests her back against the gate pushing it closed. She holds both of Tobin’s hands. There’s enough light from the moon that Tobin can still clearly see the emerald in Christen’s eyes.

 

Christen looks unsure, almost frightened. Her breath is shallow. In the dim light from the distant Cafe du Monde, Christen’s lips are barely parted and quivering. Tobin lifts a hesitant hand. With the back of her fingers, she gently caresses the edge of Christen’s jaw. Christen’s eyes close and her mouth falls open. Tobin has waited for this moment for so long. She tenderly puts a hand behind Christen’s neck and presses her lips to Christen’s. 

 

Tobin is so overwhelmed by the moment, she almost pulls away, but immediately Christen has both arms around Tobin’s neck. Her hands are tangled in Tobin’s hair, pulling her closer. Their kiss deepens. Tobin feels the distinct pang of lust below her waist. Christen sighs and whimpers. Tobin can feel Christen’s heart beating hard against her sternum. Her own heart beating a similar rhythm.  Tobin pulls Christen’s lower lip between her teeth and then feels Christen’s tongue slip between her lips. Tobin relishes the warmth and taste of Christen’s lips and tongue. She pushes her body against Christen’s, driving her center between Christen’s legs. Christen cries out softly and shudders against Tobin’s muscular frame. Tobin groans as she tastes Christen’s neck and feels her fingers in the familiar small of Christen’s back. Tobin pulls back for a split second and sees Christen’s head tipped back, the apple of her throat outlined in the soft light. Christen, in this indigo moonlight is irresistibly seductive.

 

“Are we supposed to be taking this slow?” asks Tobin coming up for air.

 

“Slow?” Christen is breathless. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you for six years.”

 

Tobin smiles and kisses Christen again for a few seconds. 

 

“What are you saying?” Tobin asks.

 

Christen looks into Tobin’s eyes as if she’s searching for...something. The moment seems to last forever. Christen’s delicate fingers brush against Tobin’s lips. She glances her lips against Tobin’s cheek and crooked smile. 

 

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough. I want you, Tobin Heath.” Christen whispers, trembling as she continues to tease Tobin’s mouth.

 

Tobin kisses Christen hard, leaving her breathless before taking her by the hand and heading back to the hotel.

* * *

 

Tobin unlocks the hotel room door and pushes it open for Christen.  On the other side, the room is in near darkness, lit only by the moon through the clouds. Christen pulls off the leather jacket and throws it on the chair. She takes Tobin by the hand and pulls her into another embrace, her hands deliberate as they tease Tobin’s neck and back. Tobin’s senses are overwhelmed at the feeling of Christen’s body pressed against hers. Christen’s nipples are discernibly erect against Tobin’s chest. Tobin buries her face in Christen’s hair and breathes deeply. Tobin places her hands on Christen’s hips and begins to pull the coral dress up until Tobin finds her hand fondling Christen’s underwear. She puts her hands higher until she feels the warm skin of Christen’s back.

 

Christen is writhing under Tobin’s hands. She pulls Tobin into a kiss, hungrily tasting Tobin’s lips and tongue. Christen pulls back for a moment, smiles at Tobin and then begins to undo Tobin’s jeans.  Tobin watches, full of lust. She can’t wait either and reaches for Christen and starts to unbutton the front of her dress. Christen’s dress falls to her feet. 

 

Christen is still working on Tobin’s pants, when Tobin suddenly says “Stop.”

 

Christen looks up suddenly. Tobin is smiling.

 

“I just want to look at you.” Tobin can see the impossibly beautiful outline of Christen’s body in the dim light of the room.

 

Christen smiles and commands “Hands up.” Tobin eagerly complies. Christen pulls Tobin’s shirt off and then finishes unzipping Tobin’s pants. 

 

They’re both in their bras and underwear now. Christen pulls the covers back and slips underneath.

 

Tobin undoes her bra and throws it across the room. She climbs into the bed and immediately embraces Christen, feeling the warmth and softness of Christen’s skin, kissing her intensely. She’s waited so long for this moment.

 

Christen cups Tobin’s face in both hands sensing Tobin’s desperation. Tobin is breathing hard as she comes up for air, staring into Christen’s beautiful face.

 

“I’m not going anywhere. You have me all night.” Christen kisses Tobin gently.

 

Tobin smiles and reaches behind Christen and unclips her bra. Christen wriggles out of her bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed. Tobin moves on top of Christen, pressing her body to Christens and kissing her deeply. Christen is whimpering and Tobin can’t wait any longer. She reaches down and pulls Christen’s underwear down and then kicks her own underwear toward the bottom of the bed. 

 

“I want you.” Christen whispers.

 

Tobin’s center is between Christen’s legs now, feeling Christen’s warmth and wetness as she teases Christen’s neck and ears with soft kisses and her leisurely tongue. Tobin shifts a hip into Christen’s center. Christen cries out and shudders with pleasure. Tobin can feel her own wetness forming a stickiness between her own legs. Tobin is in her element as she puts a hand between Christen’s legs and dips a finger into Christen’s wet folds. Christen’s back arches involuntarily at the sensation. Tobin flicks her tongue over Christen’s nipples and then nips and licks both breasts. Tobin positions her mound against Christen’s and kisses Christen as she begins to slowly rocks a rhythm into Christen’s center. After a few minutes, Tobin begins to feel sweat forming between their stomachs. Christen’s breasts have a gorgeous sheen of sweat from the heat between them. She can feel Christen building as she moves faster. Tobin watches intently at the look of sheer pleasure on Christen’s face. Christen’s hair is scattered over the pillow and her mouth is open as she breathes erratically. Christen’s whimpers and soft cries are almost enough to send Tobin over the edge.

 

Tobin suddenly shifts her head down to Christen’s heat and wetness. She pushes Christen’s legs farther apart and begins caressing Christen’s folds with her fingers. She draws her tongue through the center and tastes Christen for the first time. Christen cries out and arches her back breathing quickly and unevenly as Tobin begins to lap a rhythm against Christen clit, occasionally pulling her folds between her teeth. Tobin takes her time flicking and drawing the length of her tongue over Christen’s engorged clit.  Each time Christen seems close, Tobin teases her releasing the pressure until Christen is pleading. Tobin could do this all night.

 

“Please...pleaaase…” Christen is whimpering.  Tobin finally can’t take it anymore either.

 

She pushes two fingers into Christen and pushes her tongue against Christen’s clit. She begins to slowly ramp up again the rhythm. Flicking her tongue against Christen’s clit and slowly plunging her long fingers into Christen’s pussy, Christen is whimpering and moaning at the overwhelming pleasure. Tobin begins moving faster, plunging deeper through Christen’s warmth and moisture and then adds a third finger. Christen suddenly shudders and cries out loudly “Oh my god! Tobin! I’m coming baby! I’m coming!” Christen’s back arches as she pushes her clit against Tobin’s tongue. Tobin feels a rush of sweet liquid from Christen’s folds. Christen is still shuddering. Tobin waits for Christen’s body to relax. She pulls her drenched fingers from Christen’s spent pussy, wipes her mouth and then crawls up to Christen’s face.  Christen is spent and still panting but pulls her quickly into a kiss, tasting herself on Tobin’s lips and tongue.

 

“Are you okay?” Tobin asks, staring at Christen’s gorgeous body in the moonlight.

 

Christen smiles at Tobin and then puts a hand behind Tobin’s head and pulls her into a gentle and tender kiss. “I’m better than okay. I’m finally what I was meant to be,” Christen whispers.

 

“And what is that?” Tobin asks.

 

“Yours.”

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin has a run-in..with Christen's mother.

“Sometimes I think, I need a spare heart to feel all the things I feel.” ― **Sanober Khan**

 

* * *

 

New Orleans is relatively calm in December. Even in the French Quarter, there is only the sound of egrets, white phoebes and other Louisiana fauna waking early on this particular morning. The sun begins to kiss the rooftops of this Mississippi River delta town, and glints off the hanging dewy ferns of the balconied townhouses across the street.

 

Tobin has spent several hours making love to Christen. On Tobin’s bed, in the shower and then on Christen’s bed. Only in their exhaustion between sessions of love-making have they had any sleep.

 

After the last orgasm that Tobin gives Christen, Tobin spends the next several minutes brushing a hand gently against Christen’s cheek and planting soft kisses on her lips and neck.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” says Tobin, her lips against Christen’s neck.

 

“Mmm..” Christen’s eyes are closed.

 

“Have you ever done this before because it seems to me, you know what you’re doing.” 

 

Christen’s eyes are still closed, but she’s smiling. “Yes, I’ve done this before.”

 

“You have?” Tobin is genuinely surprised.

 

“Yeah, I had experiences in college. And I had a thing going with a player at Tyresö for like six months.” says Christen. She turns on her side so she is facing Tobin.  She lifts a hand and draws Tobin’s hair behind an ear.

 

“Who?” Tobin doesn’t know why, but she can feel the distinct sensation of jealousy in her gut and Christen immediately hears it in her voice. 

 

“Are you jealous?” Christen is smirking.

 

Tobin knows it's pointless to deny anything. “Okay...maybe.”

 

“Don’t be jealous. I didn’t feel anything for her that even remotely comes close to how I felt about you.” Christen kisses Tobin with a smile on her face.

 

Tobin pulls back grinning “You...felt...about me?” 

 

Christen takes a deep breath and says “Do you remember that horrible game? The 2009 College Cup Final?”

 

“It wasn’t horrible to me. My team won, if you remember.” Tobin gloats.

 

“That’s not the point.” Christen says sternly. “After the game, you came up to me and shook my hand, like we’re supposed to. You remember?”

 

“Yeah, I remember.”  Tobin smiles. _I will remember that moment forever._

 

“I remember being...heartbroken. The truth is I used to cry all the time on the field. Long before that final, I was constantly anxious and panicked. I felt like if we didn’t win, or if I didn’t score, I was worthless. Every single game was like that for me. Imagine how I felt after that loss.” Christen pauses and looks Tobin in the eye. “We’d lost and my whole team was in tears. I walked up to you and shook your hand. I don’t even remember what I said.  I looked you in the eyes for the first time and then you wouldn’t let go of me. There was something about how you looked at me.” Christen pauses. “It was like you...saw right through me. I remember I just stopped crying after that. I remember walking off the field and looking over at you and your team. You were all celebrating, except for you, kind of. You looked like you were...unhappy. It was so strange.”

 

Tobin’s heart feels raw and exposed by the memory. She remembers the feeling that her life had changed that day.  Maybe it did for Christen too.

 

Tobin is staring into space as she recalls, “I remember looking you in the eyes and feeling crushed that you were so heartbroken. I could see it on your face. In your eyes. I’d never reacted that way to an opponent. Ever.” Tobin shakes her head as she looks in Christen’s eyes.  “And then you looked me in the eyes...and...I wasn’t the same after that.” 

 

Christen’s eyes are glassy as she gazes at Tobin. Christen has the same intense look on her face as she did in the House of Blues. She puts her hands on either side of Tobins face and kisses her gently for a few seconds. Tobin tastes the salt from Christen’s tears, emotion taking over as she holds Christen closely. The kiss deepens quickly and before long, Christen flips Tobin onto her back and pushes a hip into Tobin’s middle. 

 

Tobin groans at the sensation. Christen is flicking her tongue into Tobin’s mouth as they kiss. Tobin is so turned on. She puts her hands on Christen’s back. Feeling Christen move above her, she puts her fingertips into her favorite place, the crevice in the middle of Christen’s smoothly muscled back. Christen licks and kisses Tobin’s neck and then moves her way down to Tobin’s breasts, licking and teasing past her stomach until she is planted between Tobin’s legs.

 

Tobin is shivering with anticipation.

 

Christen plants a soft kiss in the center of Tobin’s heat near her clit. Tobin whimpers at the feeling of Christen’s lips. Christen pushes her tongue through Tobin’s folds and draws it across Tobin’s firm clit.

 

Tobin cries out with pleasure. “Please go slow...please.”  She looks down and sees Christen smirking below her waist.

 

“I’m planning on it.” Christen whispers.

 

Christen pushes her tongue deep into Tobin. Tobin groans again. The feeling of being fucked by Christen is overwhelming. Tobin is already panting. 

 

“Easy, Tobin, relax.” Christen says gently. Tobin can tell she’s smiling.

 

Christen pushes two fingers inside of Tobin and curls her fingers. “Unggh!” Tobin gasps. Christen pulls one hand to Tobin’s sculpted abs to feel Tobin’s stomach quivering. Tobin begins to pant as Christen begins to fuck her slowly. 

 

The world seems to fall away as the feeling inside begins to build. The sensation of lips and tongue, fingers and hands sets Tobin’s body ablaze. Tobin grips the sheets with her left hand and puts her right hand on the top of Christen’s head. She is even more aroused feeling Christen’s head bob as she beats a rhythm slowly against Tobin’s clit. Before long, Tobin is feeling like she will fly over the edge, but Christen wants to prolong the pleasure, and the agony, so she slows and even stops for a few seconds.

 

Tobin is smiling even though her eyes are still closed. “Yer killin’ me,” Tobin barely whispers.  She looks down at Christen who is eyeing her lustfully.

 

Christen begins moving again. This time she sucks and flicks her tongue against Tobin’s clit more quickly. She begins to fuck Tobin harder with her fingers. Tobin can hardly breath from the sensations she feels from her head to her toes. Tobin can feel herself building. She may go insane if Christen’s stops again. She’s so close. _So close._

 

Suddenly, Christen curls her fingers and Tobin’s orgasm erupts, heat and pure pleasure filling her midsection and even her limbs. Tobin grabs a pillow and holds it over her face as her body convulses and she cries out “Christen! Christen! Oh God! Oh God!” Christen finally stops moving as Tobin continues to shudder from her orgasm.

 

Tobin’s body feels so weak. She can’t make a fist or seem to move for a few minutes.

  

Eventually though, Tobin turns her head and sees Christen’s long beautiful body covered in beads of sweat, her shiny breasts and stomach heaving in the moonlight from exertion. Tobin has never seen anything so beautiful.

 

Eventually, Christen tucks into Tobin and rests her head on Tobin’s shoulder. She pulls the blankets up and covers them both. Christen lays an arm across Tobin’s chest and before long is fast asleep.

 

Tobin is so happy. She takes a finger and moves Christen’s hair out of her face and then kisses her on the forehead.  She smells the sweetness of Christen’s hair and brushes her lips against Christen’s skin. It's then she has a realization.

 

Tobin wants to tell her. She’s never told anyone those words. The thought that this is _the one_ fills Tobin with apprehension. She knows she doesn’t need to figure this out now.  Tobin takes a breath and chooses to be present with this beautiful woman, in this moment. She wants her to know though. _Why can’t I just say it?_ She knows Christen is asleep, but tries to say it anyway.

 

“I think… _I love you._ ”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

A few hours later, Tobin and Christen are awakened by the sound of someone pounding on their hotel room door.

 

“Hey! You guys! Get up! You have to get to the airport!” It's Molly coming around to all the player’s rooms post-celebration morning.  Such is the thankless life of the National Team’s administrator. On this day, some people will miss their flights, including Abby Wambach.

 

Tobin wakes with Christen still wrapped around her. She smiles at the feeling of Christen’s warmth and softness.  Christen’s hand moves involuntarily on Tobin’s chest. Tobin picks up Christen’s hand and places a kiss in her palm.

 

“Christen?” Tobin whispers.

 

“Mmm…” Christen utters a soft moan like she is infinitely satisfied to be laying here.

 

“What time is you're flight?” asks Tobin.

 

“Who cares?” Christen says sleepily.

 

Tobin kisses Christen on the cheek. “I do.” She begins to move out of Christen’s grasp. “I have sponsorship shit I gotta do in L.A.”

 

Christen’s eyes finally open. “You have to go to L.A.?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Hm. Really?” Christen says smiling. “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

 

At Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport, Christen and Tobin change their tickets so that they’re both sitting in business class and next to each other.

 

Tobin generally hates long flights, but today she is looking forward to the four hour flight from New Orleans to Los Angeles.

 

About an hour into the flight, Tobin reaches over to hold Christen’s hand. Much to Tobin’s surprise, Christen unexpectedly pulls her hand away.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m not ready to be public about this.”  Christen whispers. She looks at Tobin regretfully.

 

Tobin feels the small sting of rejection. She takes a deep breath and exhales.

 

“Okay.” Tobin is mostly silent as she works through her thoughts, “It's been awhile since I was with anyone who was closeted.”

 

“I don’t know if I’d say I’m closeted,” says Christen, adding “Aren’t you worried about how this affects you're standing on the team? And if I’m being honest, it makes me worry a little about some of my sponsorships.”

 

Tobin is trying to be understanding. She’s only ever just been herself.  But she understands that this is new, for both of them.

 

“Can I think about how to respond? I don’t want you to worry. I’m here. I just want to understand and figure out how that will work for me.” Tobin is going to be completely honest with Christen no matter what.

 

Tobin’s brow is furrowed as she picks up her copy of _Beloved_.  She doesn’t open it, but puts it back into her backpack.

 

“So, I’m going to go back to my parent’s house in PV. I was thinking maybe you could come stay with me there?” Christen tries to lighten the mood.

 

Tobin is still contemplating their previous conversation and doesn’t answer immediately. Tobin looks out the window and sees the expanse of Texas hill country below.

 

“Or...not.” Christen sounds disappointed.

 

“Six-Star actually got me a suite at the Beverly Hilton for the next week.” Tobin says matter-of-factly. “I’m shooting some commercials and print stuff for them.”

 

“Oh.” Christen is disappointed.

 

“I just have to get this stuff out of the way the next couple of days. I have to meet my agent later to talk through some stuff. And then I have a meeting with Nike and an interview with Deadspin.” Tobin is still bothered by the earlier conversation, but she wants to be honest. She turns and looks at Christen who is staring at her hands in her lap. “Are you upset?”

 

“No... I don’t know. It just feels like you’re upset with me because I didn’t want to hold your hand.” Christen looks like she could cry.

 

Tobin sighs. She can’t lie, of course. She is, in fact, troubled by Christen’s wanting to be closeted. “I’m not upset. I’m... ‘concerned’ just because that’s not something I think about. It seems...I don’t know...dishonest?”

 

Christen bristles at the _dishonest_ comment.  “I have to do what I think is right for me.”

 

Tobin nods. “I agree.”

 

_But so do I._

 

* * *

 

At LAX, out on the curb, Christen turns to Tobin and kisses her on the cheek. “Call me later?”

 

“You know it.” Tobin’s heart swells at the smile on Christen’s face.

 

Tobin climbs into the Uber and waves goodbye to Christen.  She feels a pang in her heart as the car starts to move.

 

* * *

 

“Tobin, you all set up at the hotel?” Spencer has been Tobin’s agent for several years. Since the Olympic win in 2012, there has been constant pressure and demand for Tobin’s time. Tobin is very careful what products and companies she represents. They have to fit with her personal brand and standards. She has to believe in it.

 

“Are we still having dinner with Six Star tonight?” Tobin asks, peering over the balcony at the hotel pool and bar.

 

“Yeah, I made it easy on you. It's at Circa in the lobby there.” Spencer sounds distracted on the phone.

 

“Okay, 7pm?” 

 

“Yep, see you there, Tobs.”

 

* * *

 

 

Circa 55, like the rest of the Beverly Hilton, is awash in mid-twentieth century style and accoutrements, from the broad striped awnings to the faux French double doors by the pool level suites. Merv Griffin, the famously pan-sexual talk show host and owner of the Beverly Hilton made sure that his style would have a lasting influence on the hotel. Spencer has picked a table by the glamorous pool. A pool that stars like Angelina Jolie have hurled themselves into post-Golden Globes win.

 

“We want you to be one of our marquis athletes, Tobin. We know you are going to be a super-star.” Benjamin Giancarlo is a vice-president in charge of athlete sponsorship for Six Star.  We know that you’ve had a mid-level contract with us for some time, but we want you to be THE...premiere female athlete for our supplement line.”

 

Tobin has always found this part of the job slightly irritating but altogether necessary. 

 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spencer is chomping at the bit. “Let’s get real here, what does that mean though?” He holds a hand in the air and rubs his fingers together.  Tobin has always appreciated that one-track aspect of Spencer’s agent mind -- the money is the most important thing.

 

Benjamin smirks.  He understands these athlete agents too well. “I’ve already thought of that. You guys are at about 100k over five years which is minor league shit.  How does 375k sound instead?”

 

“Over how many years?” says Spencer.

 

“Same term. 5 years,” Ben counters.

 

Tobin has no idea what’s a good deal and what isn’t.  Thank goodness Spencer knows.

 

“A half mil and over that term and we’ll consider it.” He leans forward and puts a hand on the table.

 

Ben leans back in his chair, a wry smile on his face.

 

“Okay, done.” He puts his hand out and shakes Spencer’s hand vigorously.

 

It's always amazing to Tobin how they get those deals done. Tobin stands and shakes Ben’s hand and then Spencer’s.

 

Spencer rubs his hands together, smiling, “Okay, anybody want a big steak?”

 

Tobin’s hand shoots in the air.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, Tobin gets a few moments to herself.

 

**9:49pm**

Where you?

 

**9:49pm**

At home. Whaddup dawg.

 

**9:50pm**

Can I FT you?

 

“What’s goin’ oooon?” Pinoe is always happy to hear from Tobin.

 

“Hey Pinoe. You busy? Can I talk to you about something?” Tobin knows her friend will give her a completely unvarnished opinion.

 

“So first...uh...um...I...um...Christen and...I…” Tobin has never been a braggart about her exploits. 

 

“Dude! Fur real? You done did it?” Pinoe is hopping up and down with her phone, a maniacal grin on her face.

 

“Pinoe. Quit jumping. You’re gonna make me throw up.” Tobin holds her hand up to her eyes.  When she looks again, Pinoe is standing perfectly still trying not to look so manic, although her eyes betray her excitement.

 

“Well? How was it. I want all the filthy details.” Pinoe rubs her hands together.

 

“I am NOT telling you shit about that. That is between me and her, dude.” Tobin is serious.

 

“Oh man. You’re no fun.” Pinoe snaps her fingers in disappointment.

 

“You know how long I’ve felt this way about her. She feels the same way about me too. It's special.” Tobin is smiling. “She’s felt the same way for a long time.”

 

“Oh wow, Tobs. That’s incredible.” Pinoe notices something amiss in Tobin’s expression. “How come you don’t look right? What’s wrong?”

 

Tobin winces a little and then just finally says it. “She’s still kind of...closeted. She doesn’t want people to know about us, yet.”

 

Pinoe’s reaction is immediate. “Aw, Tobs. No. No. No. No….” Pinoe is shaking her head.

 

“What do you mean ‘No?’” 

 

“You ain’t got time for that bullshit, Tobin.” Pinoe is clearly disappointed. “She can figure out her BS on her own time. Why would you want to be there while she figures out if she wants to be real or not? That’s not who you are, is it?”

 

“No. But Pinoe…” Tobin is quietly pleading.

 

“What?”

 

“The thing is…”

 

“What?”

 

“The thing is...I think...I think I love her.” Tobin has never fully admitted that to herself, let alone another person, her feelings about Christen.  When Tobin finally looks into the phone, Pinoe looks emotional.

 

“Aw...Tobin…” Pinoe has a half-grin but actually looks a little teary. “Do you love her enough to wait for her to figure out if she’s going to be real?”

 

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that, Pinoe.  But I think the answer is ‘yes’.” Tobin is so happy Pinoe knows the truth about how she’s feeling.

 

“Okay. Well, that settles it, I guess.” Pinoe says, adding “Quick question though. Um, does she know you’re in love with her?”

 

Tobin’s face falls. She’s wanted to say it so often. Tobin thinks she may have wanted to say it as long ago as that camp right before the Olympics. “No. I want to say it. I will say it. It's just...It's hard for me to say. Ya know what I mean?”

 

“I get it. You’re not this effusive sort of person. You never have been. Although, I have to tell you, every once in a while, you’ll drop something that is just so deep it blows me away.” Pinoe says wistfully. “Has Christen heard something like that from you yet?”

 

Tobin thinks back to last night. Telling Christen about their first meeting.  That may have been one of those moments.

 

“I feel like I’m working up to telling her. I think it might take me some time. I might need to bounce some stuff off you. That okay?”

 

“You got it, Tobs.”

 

* * *

 

 

**10:35pm**

Are you still up?

 

**10:35pm**

I’ve been waiting for you :-)

 

**10:36pm**

I’m sorry. 

Dinner took too long and 

Spencer wouldn’t shut up 

and then I was talking to Pinoe.

 

**10:37pm**

It's okay. 

I’m just glad you texted me. 

How was your day?

 

**10:37pm**

Pretty good. 

Too much stuff to do.

I’m sorry, 

but tomorrow isn’t 

gonna be much better

I have some shoots

And I think they’re all day

 

**10:39pm**

I miss you

 

**10:39pm**

I miss you too

 

**10:40pm**

I’m thinking completely

dirty stuff about you

right now

 

**10:41pm**

;-)

OMG, I wish you were here

 

**10:42pm**

Can you break away at all

tomorrow?

 

**10:44pm**

I think I finally get free for dinner

Around 8pm tomorrow

 

**10:45pm**

Okay, 8pm then

 

**10:45pm**

8pm

 

* * *

 

The next day Spencer calls too early in the morning. 

 

“Tobs. Change of plans. The director wants you on set up in Santa Barbara instead of Burbank.”

 

Tobin rubs the sleep out of her eyes “Wait. Spence. That’s like two hours away, man. I had plans this evening. There’s no way I can make those if it's in Santa Barbara.”

 

“Tobin, do you want this deal or not? I don’t know what plans you have, but we’re talking a half mil. And you delivering the commercial is part of the deal.”

 

Tobin doesn’t care about the money, but she does care about Spencer.  Although Spencer is a typical sports agent, bloodthirsty and ruthless when it comes to business, Spencer is also fiercely loyal. Tobin knows in a pinch he’d give his kidney to her if she asked.

 

“Okay.” Tobin says reluctantly.

 

* * *

 

 

**7:55am**

Hey

 

**7:59am**

Hi, sorry just waking up

Good morning, beautiful

 

**8:00am**

Good morning :-)

 

**8:01am**

Why do I feel like you’re gonna 

tell me some bad news?

 

**8:02am**

I’m sorry. 

I have to go to Santa Barbara 

for the shoot all day

I won’t get back til after midnight

 

**8:04am**

:-(

Okay. I understand.

 

**8:05am**

I’ll try to text you some time today

 

**8:05am**

Ok

 

**8:06am**

I miss you

 

**8:06am**

I miss you too

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin gets to the shoot and realizes that it's not as organized as she was hoping it would be. The director shoots each shot 10 times. There’s an argument at some point between Spencer and the production designer. There’s a passive aggressive fight between the makeup artist and one of the P.A.s. Tobin keeps looking at the clock, which seems to move so slowly.  Eventually, the production wraps. It's nearly 10:00pm. Tobin suddenly realizes that she hasn’t texted Christen once. She checks her phone. No messages.

 

Tobin races down the Pacific Coast Highway but is dead on her feet when she gets back to the Beverly Hilton. 

 

She pulls her room key card out and unlocks the door. She’s never been so happy to be back in her hotel room. She strips her clothes off and then immediately gets into bed. Tobin takes her phone out but there are still no messages.

 

Tobin falls asleep, with the lights of Santa Monica Blvd twinkling in the distance.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Tobin still hasn’t heard anything from Christen.

 

**9:01am**

Hi

 

 _There’s no response_. Tobin is getting anxious.

 

**9:10am**

Hi I’m sorry about yesterday

 

_Still no response._

 

**9:15am**

Can you call me when you get this?

 

By 10am, Tobin can’t take it anymore.  She tries to call but Christen doesn’t answer.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Tobin phones a friend.

 

“Hey Kelley?” Tobin is desperate.

 

“Hey Tobs. What’s up? You wanna go surf?” Kelley is in town to attend to some US Soccer business before the holidays. Usually the answer is an unqualified “yes” from Tobin.

 

“Do you have Christen’s address in Palos Verdes?”

 

“Uh, yeah, somewhere. What’s going on?” Kelley asks.

 

“I’ll tell you later. Can you get me the address, please?” Tobin doesn’t want to put her friend off, but she has one goal in mind at the moment. Talking to Press and seeing if she’s potentially angry for being ignored all week by the woman who made crazy mad love to her a few days ago.

 

“Uh...here it is…” replies Kelley.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin pulls up to the amazing house in Palos Verdes. Tobin realizes that coming over to Christen’s parent’s house is slightly stalkerish.

 

Tobin walks up to the front door, her palms sweating.

 

_What am I doing?_

 

She stands at the front door for almost a full minute before pushing the doorbell.

 

The door opens, and Christen’s mother, Stacey, is standing there. Two small tan dogs are clamoring to get at Tobin.

 

“Yes, can I help you?” she doesn’t immediately recognize Tobin.

 

“Hi Mrs. Press. I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Tobin, Christen’s friend.” Tobin feels mildly panicked standing in front of Christen’s mother.  The two dogs are suddenly sniffing and jumping for her attention.

 

It takes Stacey Press only a moment to realize who is at her front door. “Tobin! Hi! Come in! Come in!” She steps out onto the doorstep and puts an arm around Tobin pulling her into the foyer of the massive Spanish-style home. “What brings you to PV, Tobin?”

 

_Oh shit. Just tell her the truth, Tobin._

 

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of Christen and she’s not answering her phone.” Tobin is clearly anxious.

 

“Oh honey.” Stacey tilts her head back, just like Christen, and laughs out loud. “That’s my fault.”

 

“What? Whaddya mean?” Tobin is confused.

 

“We took the lil stinkers...I mean...the dogs...for a walk on the beach yesterday. I told her to take a picture. And wouldn’t ya know it, Christen dropped her phone off the cliff and it's somewhere at the bottom of the Pacific in a million pieces.”  Stacey Press giggles just like her daughter.

 

Tobin is so relieved. It shows in her body language and on her face.  Stacey can tell something is up with Tobin, when her shoulders visible relax. Stacey isn’t going to let this opportunity go by.

 

“Tobin, she’s actually at the store getting a new phone.” Tobin must have some strange expression on her face, because Stacey smiles knowingly at Tobin.  “How bout you come in the kitchen and have some coffee with me. She’ll be home soon, but you and I can have a chat.” Tobin can tell that Stacey Press is as empathetic, not to mention opportunistic as her beautiful daughter.

 

Stacey Press pours a cup of coffee for Tobin. “Cream or sugar?”

 

“Oh just a little cream. Thank you.” Tobin plants herself at the kitchen bar on a stool.

 

Tobin takes a sip of her coffee. She looks around the well-appointed kitchen. It's obvious to her that Stacey Press spends a lot of time in the kitchen cooking. Pots and pans hang near the stove at the ready. One bowl has avocados and limes and another, apples. 

 

Tobin smiles gazing at the vaulted ceilings and open floor plan of the kitchen and family room. This space has likely provided a perfect gathering place for the Presses and their three accomplished daughters over the years.

 

“Would you like some coffee cake? I just made it. It's Chrissie’s favorite.”

 

 _Chrissie?_ Tobin smirks and makes a mental note to call Christen that later to see how it goes over.

 

“Please. Thank you.”

 

Tobin suddenly realizes she hasn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. She’s famished. 

 

Tobin has just taken an enormous bite of the cake and a sip of her coffee when Stacey Press drops a bomb.

 

“So, how long have you been seeing my daughter?” Stacey says straight-faced as Tobin tries not to choke on her food.

 

Tobin coughs and then takes another sip of her coffee. She looks up and sees Stacey Press smiling at her.

 

“Uh...not that long.”  Tobin can’t help it. Her eyes are as wide as saucers.

 

“And do you have feelings for my daughter?” Mrs. Press is direct. Tobin almost wants to laugh out of sheer horror.

 

“Uh. Yes.” Tobin is powerless to keep any of her thoughts to herself.  Stacey Press is a smiling Svengali.

 

Stacey Press comes up behind Tobin and pats her on the back. “Good. Because I know my daughter likes you too.”

 

_Ruthless. Just like her daughter._

 

Tobin watches as Stacey steps around the other side of the counter, still smiling.  She opens the refrigerator and takes out what looks like a fully cooked chicken and a pile of vegetables.

 

“Chris will be home soon. Wanna help me make lunch?” 

 

Tobin realizes it's not really a question.

 

_What is happening?_

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin spends the next thirty minutes chopping vegetables and shredding chicken, while Stacey makes some pasta.  By the time everything is ready, Tobin knows that Stacey Press was born and raised in Seattle, Washington. She was one of four kids. Her family eventually moved to the California Bay area. Stacey’s mother Leonella, love Palo Alto, which was one of the deciding factors for Christen, when she chose to go to Stanford for school.  Somehow Stacey Press mines an equal amount from Tobin’s history as well. 

 

Tobin is feeling more relaxed than when she arrived.  She and Christen’s mother are laughing about a Heath family story involving wild birds, when the patio door suddenly opens.

 

“Mom!”

 

“In here, honey.” Stacey arches her eyebrows at Tobin.  Tobin suddenly breaks into a sweat.

 

“Thank goodness I got phone insura….” Press is shocked to see Tobin in her family kitchen. “Oh my god! What are you doing here?” Christen suddenly smiles and runs over to Tobin. Tobin is still wearing the apron, Stacey has given her. Christen embraces Tobin. Tobin melts into Christen’s body and suddenly feels like she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

 

“Hi.” whispers Christen, pulling back and smiling at Tobin.

 

“Hi.” Tobin looks into Christen’s beautiful eyes. She has literally never been happier.

 

Tobin suddenly remembers that Christen’s mother is standing right there witnessing their reunion.  She pulls back and sees that Stacey Press is smiling and her eyes are a bit glassy. Stacey Press’s eyes are green like her daughter’s.

 

“I didn’t have your number. I dropped my phone in the freakin’ ocean.” Christen is apologetic but positively thrilled to have Tobin here.

 

“A likely story,” Tobin teases. “I’m kidding. You’re mom told me what happened.”

 

“Oh she did, did she?” Christen looks around at the food. “Did you make all this, Mom?”

 

“No, Tobin did all the hard work.” Stacey is literally beaming at both of them.

 

“Are you hungry Tobin?”

 

“Oh yeah.”

 

“Well, c’mon girls, let’s eat.” Stacey puts some plates out at the kitchen bar.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mom, I’m gonna give Tobin a tour of the house and take Khaleesi and Morena down to the beach.”

 

“Be careful with that phone!”

 

“Yes, Mom.” Christen rolls her eyes.

 

Tobin climbs the stairs to the second floor. The dogs follow Christen wherever she goes. Christen’s room is on the inland side of the house.  It looks like you're typical high school girl’s room. There’s a poster of Tracy Chapman on one wall. _First album?_ Some small tchotchkes and make-up take up most of the space on the top of Christen’s mirrored dresser. Small details make it obvious this is Christen’s room. There’s a richness to the decor. Tobin takes note of the fact that there isn’t much soccer paraphernalia.

 

“Hey, I know you have like dozens of football awards and trophies. Where is everything?” Tobin is looking everywhere.

 

“Oh, that stuff? I kind of don’t care about those things. My Dad has a closet full of that stuff. He has like five Tag Heuer watches.”

 

Tobin shouldn’t be surprised. She’s exactly the same way. Tobin’s mother was moving when Tobin was already out of the house and asked what she wanted done with her enormous trophy collection.  Tobin said “I dunno. Sell it?”

 

Tobin suddenly realizes she’s alone with Christen in her bedroom. She comes up behind Christen and kisses her on the neck.  Christen whimpers at the sensation.

 

Tobin feels a pang below her waist. “I have got to get you alone.”

 

“I want you to get me alone.” Christen whispers. “We have to go walk the stinkers, first. Wanna come see my view?”

 

“Sure.” Tobin smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

Christen and Tobin leash the dogs and start the trek down the Agua Amarga Canyon to Lunada Bay.  It's early afternoon when they finally reach the beach. Christen unhooks the dogs and lets them run free. Khaleesi scampers after Morena through the large rocks to a longer stretch of sand. They’ve obviously done this hundreds of times.

 

“Wow. This is really beautiful. Must’ve been amazing growing up here.”  Tobin admires the rocky California shore and cliffs.

 

Christen looks out at the horizon. “It was,” says Christen thoughtfully. “I was that kid in my family. The one who wanted to head towards the horizon, wherever the sun was going, instead of the safety of shore.”

 

“Are you still like that, you think?” asks Tobin, watching Christen, as the ocean wind flows through her beautiful hair.

 

Christen smiles wryly. “Yeah, absolutely. I followed my heart to you, didn’t I? It was like walking right into the sun. Frightening and beautiful.” She looks intensely at Tobin. 

 

Tobin puts a hand behind Christen’s neck and pulls her into a gentle kiss. They kiss for a few minutes, before Khaleesi begins to whimper for attention.

 

Christen comes up for air and rests her forehead against Tobin’s. “Wanna go back to your hotel?”

 

“Yes, but only if I can call you ‘Chrissie’ the rest of the day.” Tobin is grinning foolishly.

 

“I’m sorry. Do you or don’t you want to see me naked?” Christen is unimpressed.

 

_Note to self: Never utter ‘Chrissie’ ever again._

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I could say I love you for your laugh, or for how beautiful you are in your favorite dress. The truth is, I love you, because there was no way for me not to." Sophia's letter.

“We love the things we love for what they are.” ― Robert Frost

 

* * *

Los Angeles at Christmas, is in some ways a contradiction in terms. There are tree lightings and boat parades, theme park events and holiday shows. For a town that is devoid of snow, cold weather and the wintery geographic features of Christmas, Angeleno’s sure now how to make their town festive.

 

“Can you stay for Christmas?” Christen whispers.

 

Tobin is exhausted after going a few rounds with Christen. She smiles and then says.  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I promised my mom I’d meet the family in North Carolina after all my commitments here,” Tobin says regretfully.

 

Christen whimpers disappointedly, “Damn, I was hoping to be naked with you for basically all twelve days of Christmas.”

 

Tobin looks over at the beautiful woman in her bed frowning and giving her puppy dog eyes.

 

“God, what am I gonna do with you?” Tobin grins, reaches over and kisses Christen hard.

 

Tobin comes up for air and looks in Christen’s remarkable green eyes. Christen’s flawless brown skin and gorgeous face. It's enough to make Tobin suddenly hold her breath.

 

_God, why can’t I say it?_

 

“Well I was hoping you understood what I wanted you to do with me…” Christen is smirking. “Basically what we’ve been doing for the last three hours.”

 

Tobin’s heart is so full with everything she feels for this woman, but she knows she can’t stay.

 

“I have a couple more meetings and then I catch a plane on Sunday.” Tobin’s heart hurts at the idea of having to leave Christen. “Is there any way you could come back with me?”

 

Christen shakes her head. “You met my mom. How well do you think that would go over? I’d basically get disowned. My sisters come home for the holidays. My gran is coming. We get matching pajamas every year. My mother might like you, but not enough to let me go home with you, yet.”

 

“Really? Your mother LOVES me. And I need pictures of these matching PJs.” Tobin teases Christen.

 

“Tell me the truth. Did she grill you about me? And did you totally fold under pressure?” Christen’s arches an eyebrow, waiting for the answer.

 

Tobin’s eyes are saucers as she relives that somewhat frightening moment with Christen’s mother.  She doesn’t answer but reveals all with just her expression.

 

“I knew it! Tobin Heath! What did you tell her?” Christen is sitting up now, her incredible hair falling over her exposed breasts.

 

Tobin is quite honestly, lost for words in that moment. Christen is just so unbelievably gorgeous. Tobin’s mouth falls open at the sight.

 

Christen smiles realizing that Tobin is temporarily thunderstruck and teases her. “Quit thinking dirty thoughts and tell me what my mother said.”

 

Tobin takes a deep breath.

 

“She asked me how long we were seeing each other and if I had feelings for you.” Tobin is still staring.

 

Christen’s smile suddenly fades. She wants to know the answer to those questions. “So, are we ‘seeing’ each other? Like, exclusively?” She looks at Tobin with a serious expression. ”I’ll be honest. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I’m not interested in dating other people. I just...want to see how this goes with you.”

 

“I told your mom that we had only just started seeing each other…” Tobin gets a wry smile and then looks into Christen’s eyes, “and I told her that, yes, I have feelings for you.” Tobin brushes the edge of Christen’s cheek, pulling her unruly hair over her shoulder. “I don’t want to be with anyone but you. I’m in this. I’m all in. With you. Just you.”

 

When Tobin looks up, she sees tears in Christen’s eyes. Christen moves closer to Tobin and kisses her gently. Tobin takes a thumb and wipes Christen’s tears away. Christen looks like she wants to say something. Tobin wants to say it too. But before long, they are kissing fervidly. Christen moves on top of Tobin. Tobin groans, feeling Christen moving rhythmically above her.

* * *

* * *

 

“I got another one.” Jeff holds up yet another sizeable largemouth bass.

 

Tobin shakes her head. Her little brother may not be able to beat her very often at Mario Kart, but in this family, he is a champion fisherman.  Tobin doesn’t quite have the touch when a fish sucks the lure or worm in. She can’t tell if it's a snag or a bite. “Dang, Jeff. How many is that?”

 

“I dunno. Four?” He tries to make his sister feel better. “You got that one.”

 

“Yeah, it was like a total baby of a fish.” Tobin is rolling her eyes.  Still Tobin loves being here with her brother and the rest of her family.

 

The Heath’s have made the Christmas pilgrimage to Durham almost every year since Tobin was little. This will be the first time in several years that they will all be together here. This year, they’re celebrating Tobin’s success at the World Cup and Perry’s recent engagement.

 

Even in December, Few Lake teems with life. Frogs, crickets and birds create a chorus that is unique to this part of North Carolina.

 

Tobin and Jeff have always had more in common than with their older sisters. Jeff and Tobin wanted to climb trees, skateboard, play soccer and go fishing, unlike Perry and Amanda.

 

“So, Mom says you got a girl.” Jeff is smirking as he slowly reels in his line. Tobin looks up.

 

“Oh she did, did she.” Tobin is snagged, yet again, on some submerged brush in the shallows.

 

“Yeah, she said she’s super pretty.”

 

“Oh did she?”

 

“Yeah, and that she’s smart.”

 

“That’s all true.”

 

“Mom says she thinks you’re in love with her.” 

 

Tobin stops tugging on her line and looks up at Jeff, her mouth open.

 

“Well, are ya?” Jeff has pulled his line in. The butt of his fishing rod on the ground.

 

Tobin sees Christen in her mind from a few days ago. Beautiful, spent, lustful and wanting only of Tobin and nothing else. Her heart beats fast from the thought. There’s no question at all how she feels.

 

“Yes...I’m in love with her.” Tobin is amazed how that makes her feel, that her brother knows.

 

“I knew it!!” Jeff is smiling from ear to ear.

 

Tobin suddenly looks a bit cross. “Mom didn’t say she thought I was in love, did she?” It's a statement, not a question.

 

“Nah. Sorry to trick you. I just wanted to know.” Jeff is still grinning.

 

“You little piece of…”

 

“But hey, I’m happy for you, Sis. That’s amazing. I don’t think you’ve ever been in love with anyone. Ever.” Jeff knows his sister too well and she knows it. “She’s one lucky girl. You tell her yet?”

 

Tobin takes a deep breath. “No, not yet.” Tobin is still tugging on the line. “I’m so frightened to say it. I have no idea why.”

 

“Has she told you, yet?” Jeff is putting a new lure on his line.

 

“No. I think she wants to tell me too.” 

 

“$10 bucks, she tells you first.” Jeff is grinning at his sister, as he throws the lure into the water again.

 

Tobin gives the stink-eye and shakes a finger at Jeff. “Help me get this line un-snagged.”

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later is another start to a January camp for the USWNT.  CONCACAF qualifying will begin in February and the US will have to retool and sharpen since several of their players have retired, including Abby Wambach, Lauren Holiday, Rachel Buehler, Lori Chalupny and Christie Rampone.

 

Tobin pulls Christen into an empty conference room before the team’s first meeting. She pushes Christen against the conference wall and presses her lips to Christen’s. She’s never kissed anyone the way she kisses Christen. She can’t get close enough to Christen.

 

“Any closer, and you’ll be on the other side of me,” whispers Christen.

 

“Any closer and hopefully I’ll be inside of you.” replies Tobin, nipping at Christen’s neck.

 

Christen whimpers and finally pushes Tobin away and looks her in the eyes. 

 

Tobin is grinning. “I missed you so much.”

 

Christen puts her arms around Tobin and holds her close. “I missed you too.”

 

“I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this camp without being able to fuck you,” says Tobin, truthfully.

 

Christen squints at Tobin, desire in her expression. “Me neither.”

 

Outside the door, Tobin can hear the team starting to assemble a few rooms down the hall. 

 

* * *

 

The USWNT’s first match in the CONCACAF tournament is against Costa Rica.  It's been over a year since Tobin has seen Shirley and hopes to make amends of some sort after the game is over.

 

The game goes as expected. Costa Rica’s best player is unsurprisingly, their captain, Shirley Cruz. The USWNT runs the score up. It's 4-0 USA in the 74th minute when Christen enters the game for Julie Ertz. Ten minutes later, Tobin spies Christen near the six-yard box and sends a short looping cross over the head of two defenders. Just like the first scrimmage, four years earlier, Christen pulls the ball down with one foot, spins off balance toward goal and pops the ball past the keeper.

 

Tobin runs towards Christen and resists the urge to kiss her on the field. “You’ve got magic feet, baby!”  Christen has an enormous smile on her face as she heads back to restart.

 

After the game, Tobin tells Christen that she’s going to go say hello to Shirley. 

 

“Of course,” says Christen. Tobin can tell that Christen is nervous. Tobin rubs Christen’s shoulder and then turns and walks toward Shirley.

 

Tobin makes her way toward the Costa Rican side of the field.  Shirley sees her coming and Tobin recognizes both warmth and sadness in Shirley’s expression.

 

“Hi, Salado, but you played well,” says Tobin holding her hand out.

 

Shirley returns the handshake. It's what any good captain would do, regardless of their personal feelings. “Qué pereza. That will kill us on the goal differential.”

 

“Sorry.” Shirley gives Tobin a quick hug. “You’ll get another shot at us in July. How have you been?”

 

“Good. Really good.” Tobin nods. She has something she wants to say to Shirley.

 

Shirley nods in Christen’s direction. “Your girlfriend is very talented...and beautiful.” 

 

_Is she my girlfriend?_

 

“Thanks,” replies Tobin and quickly changes the subject. “How are you doing?”

 

“I’m good.” Shirley seems like she wants to say something too.

 

Tobin isn’t sure why but she says it, but she does it anyway,  “Hey, do you want to get a drink after this?”

 

Shirley looks at the ground and then smiling, nods her head. “Yeah, I would like that.”

 

* * *

 

In the locker room after a quick ice bath and a shower, Tobin tells Christen the plan for after the game.

 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to go with Shirley and just get a drink and talk a little. I just want to clear the air with her. You okay with that?” Tobin says apologetically.

 

“Not really,” Christen says, truthfully, “but...you should go.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

Tobin meets Shirley at the Whiskey Moon down the street from the US, as well as Costa Rican team’s hotels in Frisco, Texas. Tobin knows this is a bit of a no-no during a tournament, but she wants to clear the air with Shirley so it's a calculated risk she’s willing to take. 

 

The Whiskey Moon is a typical hotel bar. Asian Fusion, or basically devoid of any recognizable style or personality.  Tobin finds Shirley in the lounge off the bar.

 

“Hey, thanks for meeting me,” says Tobin.

 

“Of course. It's actually nice to see you again, Tobin.” Shirley says, a hint of apprehension in her voice.

 

“You too,” says Tobin. “We kind of have to take it easy with the alcohol. If Dawn catches me I’ll be in major trouble.”

 

“I know. Me too,” Shirley replies. Shirley looks at the menu in the bar. After a few seconds she says “Well, we are at the ‘Whiskey Moon’ after all. Maybe we should just have one whiskey.”

 

Tobin wants to keep the conversation light so she agrees. “Okay.”

 

Shirley and Tobin get their whiskies and realize the pours are Texas-sized.  They would be triples in any other city. It doesn’t seem to faze Shirley at all.

 

“Pura vida,” says Shirley and takes a gulp that empties nearly half the glass.

 

Tobin, being the competitive person she is says “Bottoms up,” and takes an even larger gulp from her glass.

 

Before long, Shirley and Tobin are laughing and nearly in tears reminiscing about their time at PSG together.  Tobin is already starting to feel the effects.

 

“Do you remember that time Laure bet Kosavare that she could hit the crossbar from the halfway line?”

 

“Dios Mio!” Shirley is laughing “Oh yeah, at night, when we snuck into Parc de Prince! I remember.” 

 

Tobin is happy that Shirley is smiling and laughing. “Do you remember Laure’s punishment for losing the bet?”

 

Shirley is squinting trying to recall the story. Suddenly she remembers “Mae! Yes! I remember now. She had to wear those...how do you say in English?”

 

“Assless chaps. Outside her apartment for 10 minutes.” Tobin is decidedly drunk now, as is Shirley.

 

“Assless chaps! Qué torta!” Shirley is rolling her eyes at the thought.

 

“I personally think she looked amazing in them. She has the butt for them, for sure.” says Tobin, taking another sip.

 

Shirley is wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “We had some good times, eh?”

 

Tobin smiles as she nods slowly. “Yeah...yes, we did.”

 

“You were a good girlfriend,” says Shirley. Tobin wonders if it's the alcohol talking.

 

“Thank you. So were you.” Tobin is completely sincere.

 

“Well, it's late. I need to get back to the hotel,” says Shirley.

 

“Me too.”

 

Tobin pays the check and the two of them begin the short walk back to the hotel.  Tobin is in flip flops, of course and stumbles on the uneven ground.

 

“Cariño!” Shirley is laughing. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

 

Tobin is flat on her back on the sidewalk.  She looks up at Shirley drunkenly. Suddenly she feels Shirley’s lips on hers.  Tobin is a bit slow realizing what is happening.

 

Tobin pulls away suddenly. “Shirley. No.” Tobin is drunkenly shaking her head. “I belong to someone else. I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry, Tobin. I couldn’t help it,” says Shirley, helping Tobin up.

 

Tobin gets to her hotel first. She doesn’t hug Shirley after the incident on the sidewalk.  She says simply “It was great to hang out with you again. I’ll see you in July.”

 

Shirley nods as Tobin turns and walks into the hotel.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Tobin wakes to a splitting headache.  Ashlyn is sitting on Tobin’s bed, a bottle of Advil in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

 

“Here, get up. Take this.” Ashlyn says.

 

Tobin puts a hand to her head. It takes more effort than usual to push herself up off the bed.

 

“Thanks,” says Tobin, swallowing the pills.

 

“Did you have a nice night?” Ashlyn asks. Something in her tone doesn’t seem quite right.

 

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” Tobin is trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

 

“Well, I dunno what happened last night, but we were watching a movie in the team room, when the new kids came in. They were laughin’ about sumthin’. When I asked them what was up. They said they saw you on the sidewalk making out with Shirley.”

 

“Jesus Christ,” says Tobin.

 

“It gets worse...Christen was there.” says Ashlyn.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Tobin tries to clamor out of bed. She feels a little unsteady and falls back, her head hitting the pillow.

 

“Dude. What the fuck happened?”

 

Tobin isn’t quite prepared to have this conversation.  “Ash, can you get me a cup of coffee, please.” Tobin rubs her head and lifts the covers. “And my underwear.”

 

After several minutes and a cup of coffee, Tobin is finally able to speak coherently.  

 

“Dude, she like, gasped and then ran out of the room, crying.” Ashlyn says anxiously. “No one knew what was happening. And I didn’t want to tell everyone that you guys are seeing each other.”

 

“I gotta go find her.” Tobin pulls her shoes on and walks out.

 

* * *

 

Tobin looks all over the hotel and conference center. No Christen.  

 

She finds Molly in a makeshift office, piles of uniforms, and file folders on her desk.

 

“Hey Mol, have you seen Christen?” asks Tobin.

 

“Uh, yeah, she was down here for a minute. I heard her say she was going to go to a bookstore or something.”

 

“Thanks Mol.”

 

Tobin opens her phone and sends a message.

 

**9:39am**

Hey, where are you?

 

No response.

 

**9:42am**

Christen please.

It's not what you think.

I want to explain.

Please call me.

 

Still no response.

 

Tobin flips open her phone and searches for nearby bookstores.

 

There’s a Barnes and Noble a few miles away.  Tobin makes her way to the front of the hotel and once outside, starts running.

 

When she finally arrives at the bookstore, Tobin has never been happier to feel air conditioning. She’s drenched with sweat as she begins searching through both levels of the enormous bookstore.

 

On the second level, Tobin breathes a sigh of relief when she finds Christen sitting by herself between two stacks in the philosophy and religion section.

 

“Hey,” says Tobin, almost out of breath.

 

Christen looks up. She frowns and her head starts shaking immediately. “No. No, Tobin.” She starts to stand up. Tobin puts her hands up.

 

“Christen, please. It's not what you think.” Tobin is shaking from fear.

 

“It's not? You went to ‘clear the air’ and then you kissed her? How hard could it have been not to do that?” Christen is beside herself with anger. Tobin has never seen her like this.

 

“She kissed me. I didn’t kiss her.” Tobin is pleading.

 

Christen is crying now. “I can’t do this. It was hard enough the first time, knowing you had gone back to her. I... can’t trust you.” Christen can’t hide her heartache and anger.

 

_Say it now, Tobin. Say it!_

 

Nothing comes out of Tobin’s mouth.  Christen grabs her purse and gives Tobin a look that says “Don’t touch me.” She walks by Tobin quickly and disappears down the stairs.

 

Tobin frowns, her eyes welling with tears. She slumps against the bookshelf, knocking a few off the shelf on the way to the floor.

 

_What the fuck have I done?_

* * *

 

Tobin eventually makes it back to the hotel.  When she arrives, Dawn is in the lobby.

 

“Tobin, I need to talk to you.”

 

“Okay.”  Tobin’s day has just gone from shit to worse.

 

Apparently someone ratted on Tobin and at some point she will likely have to either run laps or do some insane amount of pushups. Tobin doesn’t care at this point. She sits there, almost indifferent to Dawn’s scolding.  She’d do a thousand laps if it would make Christen come back. At some point, Tobin just starts crying in front of Dawn.

 

“Oh c’mon Tobin. Don’t cry over this. I get it you were celebrating.” Dawn is genuinely alarmed that Tobin Heath is weeping in her office. At some point, she’s no longer able to deal with Tobin crying.  “Okay, look, I’m gonna go ahead and let this one slide. I expect better from you, Tobin.”

 

Tobin gets up. She says nothing and walks back to her room. Ashlyn is there when she opens the door. Tobin looks terrible.

 

“Fuck. Tobin, what happened to you?” Ashlyn comes over and sits Tobin on the bed.

 

“I think it's over.” Tobin is still hungover, overheated, and now despondent.

 

“No way. She didn’t believe you?” Ashlyn says.

 

“No.” Tobin is desperately trying to understand where she went wrong. She recounts her interaction with Christen to Ash.

 

“Let me play devil’s advocate for a sec.” Ashlyn sits across from Tobin. “If I were her, and you told me you were going to go have drinks with your ex, I’d find that weird, first of all.  And then, you got drunk and somehow made out with your ex...okay, now I’m starting to understand why she is so fucking pissed at you.” Ashlyn looks disappointed. “Shit, I’d be pissed at you.”

 

“Oh great.” Tobin is too tired and feeling sick enough that she is having a hard time feeling anything.

 

“Look, maybe she doesn’t realize yet that you always have the best intentions. You go do things that other people would find socially and romantically...well, unacceptable. But you would never fucking cheat on her ever.” Ashlyn is trying to help, but it's only making Tobin feel worse.

 

“Ash. I think I need to just be by myself now.” Tobin says.

 

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later, the USWNT barely scrapes by the Mexican WNT.

 

USWNT, 1 - Mexico WNT, 0

 

The US hits its stride by the third game and in the final, cruises to a 2-0 victory over Canada. Tobin scores the second goal, hitting a bending shot past the right post and Stephanie Labbé.

 

Afterward, Tobin is feeling buoyed by the win and feels brave enough to say something to Christen. She walks toward her in the locker room, but Christen glances at her, frowns and shakes her head. Tobin is heartbroken and turns and walks away. Tobin is starting to feel something normally completely foreign. Anger. 

 

She walks away, her resolve still intact.

 

_I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t._

 

The day after the final, Tobin catches a plane from Texas back to Portland.  She’s going to stay out of L.A. for as long as possible before the next tournament. She has exactly eight days.

 

Tobin arrives at her apartment and realizes that no one has been there for weeks. There’s a film of dust on nearly everything. 

 

She spends the day cleaning and doing laundry. Stocking up on groceries and dry goods for the apartment. She even straighten’s Alex’s room.

 

At some point, Tobin decides she needs coffee and decides to walk over to Case Study. She grabs her backpack and keys and heads out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Case Study is the definition of hipster café, the interior is varnished wood, black painted metal, and vaulted ceilings in an old building in downtown Portland.  Tobin comes here because she likes the warmth of the atmosphere and they have her favorite cheat-ish coffee drink, a cafe con miel, a cappuccino with blossom honey and cinnamon.

 

Tobin orders her coffee and a pastry. She opens the backpack and roots around for her wallet.  Her hand brushes against her wallet and a book.

 

Tobin realizes what the book is, of course.  She pulls her wallet out and pays.

 

Heading to a table in the corner, Tobin puts the wallet back in her backpack and sits down.

 

There are few people in the coffee shop this afternoon. Tobin’s heart feels raw as she watches the cold Oregon rain beat against the windows and street outside.

 

Tobin reaches into her backpack and pulls Beloved out of her backpack and opens Sophia’s note.

 

_I could say I love you for your laugh, or for how beautiful you are in your favorite dress. The truth is, I love you, because there was no way for me not to._

 

Tobin looks out the window again and tears begin to well in her eyes.  There is still a hint of anger as she nearly crumples the letter in her hand. Tobin lays the letter flat on the table and smooths it out. She folds it neatly and puts it back in the envelope. She rubs the back side of the envelope before putting it back in her backpack.

 

_...no way for me not to._

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The USWNT regroups for the She Believes Cup in Tampa following the break. Tobin is thankful she’s rooming with Ashlyn.

 

The first day of training comes and goes without incident, but Ashlyn knows her friend too well.

 

“Dude, what the fuck is happening with you and Christen?” Ashlyn is standing at the foot of Tobin’s bed after dinner. Tobin looks up. Ashlyn’s arms are crossed and she’s apparently not moving until she gets an answer.

 

“She thinks I kissed Shirley.” Tobin doesn’t want to have this conversation again.

 

“So? Did you kiss Shirley?”

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“So, you DID kiss Shirley?” Ashlyn is confused.

 

“Yes, look its …” Tobin tries to explain.

 

“How in the hell did you get into a situation where you’d kiss Shirley?” Ashlyn is gesturing with her hands to make a point.

 

“Ash, will you please sit down. I’ll tell you. Just sit down.” Tobin sighs and looks out the window.  When she looks at Ashlyn again, she is sitting at the desk chair, her legs crossed demurely with her hands on her knees. She is trying to be funny.  It's working. Tobin smiles and begins to tell the story.

 

When she’s finally done, Ashlyn says “Tobs, I’m sorry, but the fact that you got yourself into that situation is highly suspect. Don’t you think? I mean...can you understand why she would be so mad at you?”

 

Tobin realizes that Ashlyn is, of course, right. “Okay. You’re right.” Tobin looks at Ashlyn, desperation on her face. “So now what do I do? I gotta get her back. I gotta.”

 

Ashlyn stands up and paces around the room, her chin cupped in her hand. Tobin waits patiently for Ashlyn to answer. Eventually, Ashlyn turns and looks at Tobin, a wicked grin on her face.

 

“I have an idea. You have that book and note you carry around with you?”

 

“How do you know about that?” Tobin says surprised.

 

“Dude. We’re around you and Christen 24/7.  I know you carry that around with you everywhere you go.  I know you’ve already read _Beloved_. I had to read it too. Remember, you and I went to school together? And I know that Christen read that note and started crying. The only thing I don’t know is what that note actually says, but I have an idea.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“Oh. And we gotta call Pinoe.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The team has a tight first game with the England squad. Jill Ellis is doing some experimentation leading up to the Olympics. Christen comes in for Lindsey Horan in the 72nd minute. Christen and Tobin help create enough pressure on the left side and then room for Crystal Dunn to get into the box and launch the winning shot at the far post. 

 

Tobin waits a few seconds for the scrum celebrating Crystal’s goal to celebrate. As she makes her way toward Crystal to congratulate her, Christen sees Tobin coming and moves aside and walks away quickly.  Tobin hugs Crystal and then sighs, disappointedly. 

 

_Jesus. I hope this works._

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, the team has the day off to travel to Boca Raton, Florida for the last game of the tournament against Germany.

 

Ashlyn has somehow finagled rooming with Christen for the last leg of the trip. 

 

There is a bit of science and psychology to having players room with each other. In some cases it's to create a mentoring sort of environment, in others it's to have like-minded players build rapport and trust in the hopes that translates to the pitch.

 

Ashlyn’s excuse was that she was hoping to learn more about training discipline.  It's well-known on the team that Christen is nearly OCD about going to the field every day and taking a certain number of shots with each foot. It's how she’s able to be so lethal in front of goal.

 

After dinner, Ashlyn leaves Tobin’s copy of Beloved on the nightstand between Christen’s and her bed.  She turns to Christen at some point and says “Hey, I’m gonna go to a movie with Ali. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Need anything?”

 

“No, thank you though, Ash. Have a good time.” Christen is reading a book on her bed.

 

Ashlyn walks out the door.

 

Christen spies the book on the center nightstand.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin can’t sit still. She’s been watching TV for an hour and is about to jump out of her own skin. Tobin gets up from her bed and grabs the room key and walks out.

 

_This was a stupid idea._

 

It's mid evening in Boca Raton. The weather is mild this time of year. Tobin has her shorts and sandals on and is wishing she had remembered a sweatshirt before stepping outside. Tobin finds her way to the pool. It's empty and no one is around now. The sound of crickets, birds and palm trees rustling in the wind fills the air.  

 

Tobin sits in a deck chair next to the empty pool and watches the pool lights flicker under the water. She still can’t understand how she got here. Tobin is so heartsick. She pushes her feet off the edge of the deck chair and puts her head in her hands, a few tears have started to fall. Tobin wipes them away.  She looks up at the sky.

 

_Please help me. Please…_

 

Tobin puts her head back in her hands and focuses on the ground.

 

“Did you write that?”

 

Tobin looks up. She can’t see clearly who it is. She knows that voice. Tobin gathers herself before answering.

 

“Most of it. I asked for some help.” Tobin wipes her eyes and stands up.

 

Christen is standing in front of her. Her arms are crossed, but Tobin can clearly see that she’s been crying.

 

“So is it true?” Christen asks.

 

Tobin feels frozen but wills herself toward Christen.

 

“I’ve never once lied to you. Not once.” Tobin says quietly.

 

“I know.”

 

“You know?”

 

“I know.” Christen moves closer to Tobin. “Is it true?”

 

Tobin knows what she’s asking.  

 

_Now’s the time, Tobin._

 

“Yes, it's true.” Tobin’s heart is beating hard. She moves closer to Christen in the dim light.

 

Christen says nothing. She’s so close. Tobin breaths in her familiar scent.

 

Tobin is overwhelmed with everything she feels for this woman. Christen is staring at Tobin intensely. Suddenly, Tobin is embracing Christen.

 

“I’m so sorry,” says Christen, her arms wrapped tightly around Tobin’s neck.

 

“No, I’m sorry. I should never have gone with Shirley…” Tobin says.

 

“No, I should’ve believed you. I just…” Christen rests her forehead against Tobin’s.

 

“I love you, Christen.” Tobin is shaking. Tears are falling from her eyes as her heart races waiting for Christen’s response.

 

Christen pulls back and gazes at Tobin. Her mouth is open as she searches Tobin’s eyes.

 

Christen kisses Tobin deeply under the moonlit canopy of palm trees. Their bodies melting into one another. Tobin grasps Christen desperately, unable to be close enough.

 

When they come up for air, Christen smiles at Tobin and says “I’ve loved you since the first time I met you.” She wipes tears from Tobins now smiling face and then kisses her gently.

 

Tobin grins wryly.

 

“What are you thinking?” Christen asks, her lips against Tobin’s neck.

 

“My brother owes me ten bucks.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Christen,_

_I don’t want to make excuses for what happened. Please just know that I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you. Never. But that isn’t what this note is about._

_I love you._

_I’ve loved you from afar because part of me didn’t feel worthy to be with you. When I was able to actually be with you, I was never able to put into words everything that I’ve felt for you. I’m sorry for that. So let me say it again._

_I love you._

_Losing you now, I feel like my heart will never recover. You are the only woman who has ever meant anything to me._

_I knew the first day that I met you that my life was never going to be the same. I was dumbstruck with how talented, smart and beautiful you are, but in the end there’s only ever been one truth._

_“I could say I love you for your laugh, or for how beautiful you are in your favorite dress. The truth is, I love you, because there is no way for me not to.”_

_I love you, Christen._

_Tobin_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin meets the rest of the Press family...

“And, in the end

The love you take

is equal to the love you make.” 

― Paul McCartney

 

* * *

 

Ashlyn presses the keycard to the door. The door opens but the security lock has been flipped forward and the door only opens a few inches.

 

“Hey!” Ashlyn pushes the door again, but it doesn’t move. 

 

Christen appears through the gap in the door, smiling. She pushes another keycard through the sliver of space between the door and the jamb and whispers “Room 827. End of the hall.”

 

Ashlyn slowly starts to grin at Christen.

 

Christen grins and mouths the words, “Thank you,” then closes the door.

 

* * *

 

Tobin is partially sitting up on her elbows as she waits for Christen to come back to bed. Christen climbs on to the bed and straddles Tobin. Christen holds her face in both hands and then soundly kisses her.

 

Tobin leans forward and holds Christen close, pressing a kiss between Christen’s breasts. Tobin has her arms completely around Christen’s tiny waist. 

 

_We fit together._

 

Christen moans as she feels the pressure from her clit against Tobin. Tobin moves her hands under Christen’s perfect ass and pulls her closer. Christen whimpers as she begins to rock against Tobin. Tobin licks and nips at Christen’s breasts and nipples. Her body is on fire with desire for Christen.

 

Christen is already panting as Tobin pushes her center into Christen’s warmth and wetness. Tobin tilts her face up as Christen rides her. Christen’s eyes are almost closed, her mouth open, a look of perfect pleasure on her face. Tobin is overcome with emotion in the moment.

 

“I love you,” whispers Tobin.

 

Christen whimpers as she opens her eyes and looks at Tobin. She kisses Tobin as she picks up the rhythm.

 

“I love you,” Christen is almost breathless as she moves on top of Tobin.

 

Tobin feels Christen’s juices running down between her legs. She is so turned on. She could come at any second. Suddenly, Christen tilts her head back and cries out. “Oh! Tobin! Tobin!” Tobin pulls Christen’s slick pussy against her, rocking and pulling Christen’s ass toward her. Christen arches her back and throws her head back as she comes and then suddenly, so does Tobin. 

 

“Baby! I’m coming, baby! Oh my god! I’m coming. I’m coming.” Tobin can’t tell who is saying what. Her body is slick with her own sweat and Christen’s juices. 

 

After a few seconds, Christen falls to the side, her legs still partially around Tobin. Tobin collapses backwards, spent after having Christen’s incredible body gyrating on top of her. 

 

A few minutes later, Tobin puts a hand on top of Christen’s stomach and pulls her hand down between Christen legs. She feels Christen’s slippery folds.

 

Christen cries out. “Tobin!” She is breathless and spent, but Tobin isn’t finished yet.

 

Tobin pushes a finger into Christen. Christen whines at the sensation.

 

Tobin sits up and gets on her knees. Christen is on her back, her legs wide, her hair splayed across the bed as she watches Tobin with desire in her eyes.

 

Tobin pushes another finger into Christen. Tobin’s eyes wander over Christen’s beautiful brown body.

 

Christen’s eyes close and her mouth opens at the pleasure she feels. Her stomach flutters and Tobin can feel a rush of wetness between her own legs.

 

Tobin begins to fuck Christen again. She can’t get enough of Christen’s hands as they wander over her own body with nervous energy. Christen pinches a nipple between her fingers and pulls at her hair as Tobin ramps up the rhythm.

 

Tobin dips down between Christen legs and laps at Christen’s clit.

 

“Oh my god…”

 

Tobin fucks Christen harder and flicks her tongue on Christen clit, occasionally drawing her tongue through the center of Christen’s folds. Christen whines and whimpers, her breath fluttering.

 

Tobin can feel Christen is building. Her walls suddenly slicker. Suddenly, Christen’s pussy tightens around Tobin’s fingers.

 

“Aah! Tobin! Oh my god! Baby, I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming…” Christen suddenly sits up as she comes and pulls Tobin toward hers. She kisses Tobin hard as she comes, whining and whimpering in Tobin’s mouth until she collapses back on the bed.

Tobin lays next to Christen and plants delicate kisses on her cheek and lips.  Christen is still breathing hard when she turns on her side to face Tobin.

 

“I love making love with you,” Christen whispers. Her heavy lids betray how spent she feels.

 

“I love making love with you too,” Tobin replies, kissing Christen gently. She lays a hand on Christen’s hip and runs it gently up her side. Christen is slick with sweat.

 

“Mmmm...I love how you touch me.” Christen’s eyes are closed now.

 

Tobin can tell Christen is not just spent, but sleepy. Before long, Christen is sound asleep. 

 

Tobin gazes at Christen’s long lashes and parted lips. She follows the line of Christen’s hip to her sharp shoulders and breasts. 

 

Tobin pulls the covers over both of them. She’s never loved anyone the way she loves this woman. Tobin knows she never wants to be without Christen ever again. 

 

_Is it too soon for me to ask her to marry me?_

 

Tobin is suddenly anxious at the idea.

 

_Too soon, Tobin. Too soon._

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, the team gets ready to meet Germany in the evening for the final match of the She Believes Cup. Christen and Tobin are unable to resist giving each other knowing looks during the bus ride to FAU Stadium.

 

The team preps for warm-ups after arriving. Tobin is just pulling on her socks when someone sits in the seat next to her. “Okay it's been a minute since we talked about this, but what is going on with you and Press?” Alex Morgan grins at her friend.

 

Tobin says nothing but looks in Alex’s eyes, her blissful expression telling the whole story.

 

Alex grins and clutches at her heart. “Really?”

 

Tobin nods. She could cry, she wants to tell everyone how she feels.

 

“Tobs, did you actually say it?”

 

Tobin nods, a wide and infectious grin forming on her face. Her heart feels full at the thought. It still surprises her that she was able to say it.

 

Alex smiles, reaches over and hugs Tobin tightly, whispering “I fucking knew you could do it.”

 

* * *

 

 

The game against Germany is tough. Anja Mittag gets the first goal for Germany after an errant touch from Ali Krieger.  

 

In the 35th minute, Christen goes up for a 50/50 ball versus a German defender, the ball bounces into the defensive half and lands near Meghan Klingenberg. Kling holds off Lena Goeßling, turns and chips a dream of a ball over Alex and German defender, Anna Blässe. Alex takes a touch, with her left foot, pops the ball over the head of German captain, Saskia Bartusiak and amazingly, with her less dominant foot, rifles the ball into the net.

 

With an insurance goal from rookie, Sammy Mewis several minutes later, the US go on to win the match and the tournament.

 

Germany, 1 -  USA, 2

 

* * *

 

Ordinarily, Tobin would head back to Portland early for pre-season, but later that night after the game, Tobin is in Christen’s arms trying to figure out how to extend the time they have together.  Tobin doesn’t want to seem overly needy, but the idea of leaving Christen for any amount of time makes Tobin’s heart ache.

 

“Tobin?” Christen is twirling Tobin’s hair in her fingers.

 

“Mm hm?”

 

“Um...I have to fly to New Jersey tomorrow.” Christen seems like she wants to ask a question.

 

“Oh? You’re not going to Chicago?”

 

“No. Not yet.” Christen pauses and takes a deep breath. “I was wondering…”

 

“What?” Tobin starts grinning.

 

“I...was...wondering…” Christen is having a hard time.

 

“What were you wondering?” Tobin wants to kiss Christen hard, but waits for her to get out whatever she’s trying to say.

 

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and meet my family? We could stay at my aunt’s house. And then we could take the train down to Maryland to see my Gran.” Christen looks up, a concerned look on her face.  She realizes Tobin has an enormous smile.

 

“Why are you smiling like that?”

 

“I would love to meet your family.” Tobin’s heart swells with love for this woman.

 

“Oh my god, really?” Christen sounds surprised and yet, grateful.

 

“Yeah. I totally want to meet them.” Tobin has a hint of doubt in her voice. She worries about making a good impression.

 

“You will _love_ my Aunt Lilly and my Granfran. Two amazing women.” Christen is smiling widely. She kisses Tobin, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 

 

“I have no doubt.” Tobin tamps down the anxiety in her chest. If she wants this to work long term, she will have to meet the family at some point.

 

“They don’t know about you just yet. I hope that’s okay.” Christen looks worried.

 

“I understand. I’ll be on my best behavior,” says Tobin.

 

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

 

“I will definitely hold a pillow over your face when I make you come in the middle of the night.” Tobin smirks.

 

Christen is trying to stifle a laugh, but looks alarmed as well.

 

_Dear Lord. This is gonna be fun._

 

* * *

 

Tobin and Christen arrive at Newark International Airport the next afternoon. It's only slightly disconcerting to Tobin that she isn’t waiting for her own family to pick her up. 

 

_Holy Shit! I’m meeting the girlfriend’s family. Wait. She’s my girlfriend? [silent scream]_

 

Tobin reminds herself that she somehow survived being interrogated by Christen’s mother. She can deal with an Aunt and a Grandmother. 

 

_No problem._

 

Tobin and Christen have only been standing at the curb for a few minutes when an enormous black SUV pulls up.

 

“Aunt Lilly!” Christen says as her aunt gets out of the SUV. Lilly has the same enormous smile that Christen always has. Christen’s Aunt Lilly is a slighter version of Christen. It is immediately obvious to Tobin that they’re related.

 

Lilly hugs Christen tightly and then turns her attention to Tobin.

 

“Tobin! It's nice to finally meet you! Christen has told us so much about you.” Tobin can immediately feel a similar warmth from Lilly as she does Christen.

 

“It's great to meet you too.” Tobin shakes Lilly’s hand.

 

Lilly immediately grabs both US Soccer bags and throws them into the back of the SUV.

 

“Hey Chrissie!” Tobin hears the voice of young boy.

 

“Hey Cuz!”  

 

Tobin peers inside the SUV. Lilly’s two rambunctious sons are clamoring over the seats to get at Christen.

 

“Hey Guys!” The older son knocks his younger brother out of the way as he leaps forward into Christen’s arms.

 

“Hey! Charles! Be careful!” Christen hugs Charles before giving him a look. “Have you grown like six inches since I last saw you?” Charles towers over Christen.

 

“I dunno,” Charles says.

 

Christen puts her arms around her younger cousin and says jokingly “You’re my favorite, Nicholas.”

 

Nicholas beams as if it's true and sticks his tongue out at his older brother.

 

“You guys, this is my good friend, Tobin.” Christen puts her arm around Tobin.

 

“Tobin Heath!” Charles is awestruck, suddenly recognizing Tobin. “Oh my god! You’re my favorite player! I mean...other than you, Chrissie.” His eyes are wide as saucers looking at Tobin.

 

Nicholas obviously knows who Tobin is too. He’s trying to get a good look at Tobin under his big brothers arm. His eyes are huge and his mouth is open.

 

“She can totally be your favorite player, Charles. She’s my favorite player,” says Christen, smiling at Tobin.

 

“Is Tobin staying with us, Mom?” Nicholas is excited about the prospect.

 

“Yes. Yes, she is,” says Lilly.

 

The kids are fussing with their seatbelts in the third row when Tobin leans over and whispers in Christen’s ear, “Two questions. One. Am I really your favorite player? And two - how’s come they get to call you Chrissie and I don’t?”

 

Christen raises an eyebrow at Tobin, smirking. “You won’t be my favorite player anymore if you call me ‘Chrissie’.”

 

Tobin grins. 

 

_I love this girl._

 

“C’mon everyone, we have stuff to do. Let’s get going.” says Aunt Lilly.

 

* * *

 

 

Lillian Williams and her husband, Tim live with their children in the posh Upper Montclair section of Montclair, New Jersey. Their three-story Victorian home is around the corner from Astronaut Buzz Aldrin’s house and Christen and Tobin’s former teammate’s house, Yael Averbuch.

 

“I stayed at Yael’s house down the street a few times. I totally recognize this neighborhood.”  Tobin remembers the manicured lawns and Italianate and Victorian architecture from her time here with Yael. 

 

Yael Averbuch was both Tobin’s teammate and adversary growing up playing high school and club soccer in New Jersey. Yael was also Tobin’s college teammate at the University of North Carolina, Christen’s teammate at Koppersberg/Göteborg FC in Sweden after the WPS folded and both Tobin’s and Christen’s teammate briefly on the US National Team.

 

“Isn’t there a vegan Chinese place around here somewhere? Yael took me there.”

 

“Yep, like three blocks over,” says Aunt Lilly.

 

“I miss Yael,” Tobin says absently.

 

“Me too,” says Christen.

 

At the house, Lilly puts Tobin and Christen in the guest bedroom together. An enormous bay window is the main feature of this room with views of either end of the street and the Williams’ beautiful landscaping and manicured lawn. An unadorned mahogany bed complements the simple room decor.  This decoratively uncluttered room is meant to make guests feel relaxed and welcome. Tobin later discovers that Lilly is a Pratt Institute-educated leader in interior design.

 

“Sorry guys, it's only a queen. Are you gonna be able to deal with each other for a few days in that bed?” Lilly asks.

 

“We’ll manage,” says Christen.

 

“Okay, well, I’ll let you get settled.  I’m going to start dinner. It’ll be around six.” And with that, Lilly walks out of the room and closes the door.

 

Tobin teases Christen. “We’ll manage? Is that code for something?”

 

Christen steps around the bed and puts her arms around Tobin’s neck. She kisses Tobin deeply for a few seconds.  Enough that Tobin feels as though she may stumble.

 

“That’s _totally_ code for something,” whispers Christen.

 

* * *

 

 At dinner, Nicholas insists on sitting next to Tobin.

 

Tobin fortunately has Christen across the table to run interference as Nicholas peppers her with questions.

 

“Are you a better player than Chrissie?” asks Nicholas.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Christen is super fast. Have you seen her run? She’s the fastest person on our team.” Tobin looks at Christen and smiles.

 

“She is?” Nicholas hasn’t seen Christen in several months. He looks at Christen with the same sort of awe that he’s had staring at Tobin.

 

Christen wrinkles her nose at him.

 

“And she’s scored way more goals than me.” says Tobin.

 

“Are you and Chrissie, girlfriends?” Nicholas asks.

 

_Uh oh._

 

Tobin looks at Christen quickly. Christen doesn’t know how to react to that question.

 

Tobin pulls one out of the hat.

 

“Well, we’re both girls...and we’re friends, so I guess that makes us girlfriends.” Tobin looks at Nicholas for a reaction.

 

Nicholas has the corners of his mouth pulled down as he mulls over Tobin’s answer.  After a moment he seems satisfied and puts another forkful of food in his mouth.

 

Later, Christen comes into the bedroom and wraps her arms around Tobin from behind. “You are amazing.” She kisses Tobin on the neck and nips at her earlobes. Tobin feels desire rising in her midsection. Tobin turns around and kisses Christen on the lips and then rests her chin on Christen’s shoulder.

 

“My aunt asked if you and I were together.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I said we were.” Christen pulls back and looks Tobin in the face.

 

“Did that surprise you? That Lilly would ask you that?”

 

“Not really. I’ve always been able to tell her anything. Even more than my own parents.” Christen looks a little sad suddenly.

 

“What is it?” Tobin is concerned.

 

“I’m really close with my Gran. She doesn’t know though. I don’t know if that’s my fault or not. I just have never told her because she’s already in her eighties. You know what I mean?”

 

“Do you love her?” Tobin asks.

 

“Oh God! She is unlike anyone I know. Strong-willed. Smart. Swears like a sailor. Of course I love her.” Christen smiles at Tobin. “I know you will too.”

 

“Well maybe you need to give her more credit. I bet on some level, she already knows.” Tobin almost believes what she’s saying. She at least wants Christen to believe it.

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Tobin and Christen take the train into the city so that Christen can attend some meetings.  Christen’s first of a few meetings is with Grass Roots Soccer near midtown. Tobin decides to take a stroll through Central Park while she waits for Christen to finish up.

 

Tobin walks up 7th Avenue, past Carnegie Hall, crosses over 59th Street into the park. It's still fairly cold in New York in mid-March, but the magnificent and elderly maple, elm and oak trees already have new leaves. Tobin loves springtime in New York. The foliage in the park has the fleeting delicate green that will only be here for a little over a week and then the trees will burst into color with purple and pink. There are a few bushes and smaller trees that are already about to pop. Tobin knows on a weekday morning there won’t be throngs of people like there are in the middle of summer walking up the iconic Mall. Tobin takes that route toward Bethesda Fountain and The Lake.

 

When she finally reaches the lake, she breathes in the cold air and is thankful that she is here in this city with the woman she loves. She looks to the right toward the boathouse and the rentals. All the boats are tethered to the dock. She used to come here often with her family when she was younger.  The idea of making New York or even the East Coast her permanent residence doesn’t agree with her at this point. Tobin has travelled enough to know what she wants in a home. She wants to be someplace warm. 

 

Tobin suddenly thinks. _No, I want to be wherever Christen is._

 

**11:21am**

Hey where are you?

 

**11:22am**

I’m at Bethesda Fountain

Thought I’d take a stroll

 

**11:22am**

Any interest in getting the best

pizza in NY?

 

**11:23am**

That’s in Brooklyn

 

**11:23am**

No it's not.

It's in Hell’s Kitchen.

 

**11:24am**

Oh really?

The Cali girl knows the best

Pizza in NYC?

 

**11:25am**

Yeah. That’s right.

;-)

 

Tobin meets Christen at an unremarkable-looking pizza restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen.

 

“This it?” Tobin is smirking and looks unimpressed.

 

“Yep,” says Christen.

 

“Okay, well we’ll see, I guess.” Tobin pulls the door open and waves Christen through.

 

One cheese pizza later, Tobin is shocked that this pizza is, in fact, better than the pizza she’s grown up with in Jersey or her family’s favorite Di Fara in the Midwood section of Brooklyn.

 

Tobin wipes her mouth and shakes her head. “My family is gonna be upset that a Cali girl knows more about pizza than they do.”

 

“I actually spent a lot of summers here when I was a kid. So I actually know quite a bit about New York. Especially where to get good food.” Christen takes a sip of her Coke and smiles at Tobin.

 

“I learn something new about you every day.” Tobin’s heart swells as she looks at Christen across the standup table in this pizzeria.

* * *

 

The next day, Tobin and Christen board the Acela Express at Penn Station in Manhattan bound for Washington, DC.

 

Along the three-hour route, Tobin reaches over and taps Christen on the hand. Christen looks down. Tobin’s hand is there with the palm up. An invitation. Christen smiles and slips her slender and delicate fingers between Tobin’s. The sensation from feeling Christen’s hand in her own is almost overwhelming. Christen carefully caresses Tobin’s palm and fingertips. Tobin suddenly feels warmth rising in her throat, threatening to spill tears. She looks up at Christen and whispers “I love you.”

 

Christen gazes at Tobin, softness and a hint of fear in her eyes. She searches Tobin’s face for a long moment before saying “I’m completely in love with you.”

 

Tobin swallows, the first of a few tears falling. Her heart beats quickly. Tobin holds Christen’s hand between both of her own hands and plants a few soft kisses in her palm and fingers. When she looks up, Christen is weeping too.

 

“Why are we crying?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m happy.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

Christen orders an Uber at Union Station for the thirty minute drive to Bethesda from downtown Washington.

 

“Can you go up 6th St near Howard University on the way?” Christen tells the driver.

 

“No problem.”

 

It's been several years since Tobin was in Washington. Tobin looks out the window at the iconic Greek and Roman-influenced architecture of the city, the Washington Monument, the Capitol Building, the National Mall. There is something noble and impressive in at least the way this city looks.

 

“Hey look.” Christen points at the sign on the street. “Howard University. It was a predominantly African-American college. My grandfather was a professor and chairman of radiology there. My family has him to thank for instilling the idea of hard work and perseverance.”

 

“That is so cool. What was his name?” asks Tobin.

 

“Harry Cody Press, Jr.”

 

“Wait, isn’t that your Dad’s name?”

 

“Yep. My Dad is Harry Cody Press, _the third_. My great-grandfather was also Harry Cody Press.  It got confusing in the house, so they just called my dad, Cody.”

 

Eventually, Tobin and Christen arrive at Granfran Press’ house in Bethesda.

 

Christen doesn’t even knock. She turns the handle of the door and opens it. The interior of the house is decorated similarly to Aunt Lilly’s house. Tobin suddenly realizes, it has, in fact been decorated by Lilly.

 

“Granfran?” Christen calls out.

 

“Ooh! Is that my little baby?” says a voice from another room.

 

Christen smiles and shakes her head. She glances at Tobin and motions for her to follow.  They find Gran reading a book and having a cup of tea in what looks like a study.

 

“Christen!” Gran seems to be the only one in Christen’s family who actually calls her that.

 

“Hi Gran!” Christen walks over and helps Gran up from the small loveseat where she’s been reading and gives her a hug.

 

“Oh my goodness! Look at you!” Gran looks Christen up and down. “Is it me, or do you look happier than you usually do?”

 

_What?_

 

“What do you mean, Gran?” Christen betrays nothing as she smiles and kisses Gran on the cheek.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. You just look...pretty...and centered…” Gran is still sizing up Christen. “...something is...different. Oh don’t mind me. I haven’t seen you in so long.” Gran kisses Christen on the cheek and realizes Tobin is standing there. “Oh, who is this?”

 

Christen gently pulls Gran forward by the hand. “Granfran, this is Tobin. She’s on the team with me.”

 

“Oh goodness! Tobin, it is very nice to meet you.” Grans eyes twinkle with an infectious warmth.

 

“It's wonderful to meet you too Mrs. Press.” Tobin shakes Gran’s hand. Granfran has an exceptional grip for someone who is 81.

 

“For fucks sake. Don’t call me that. Please call me Fran or Gran or Granfran. Just don’t call me Mrs. Press.  That was my late husband’s mother. Not me.” Granfran smiles teasingly at Tobin and shakes a finger in her direction.

 

Tobin’s smile is absolutely enormous. She looks over at Christen who seems to be overjoyed that Tobin has survived her first Granfran encounter.

 

“Holy shit. She’s amazing.” Tobin whispers.

 

“I told you,” replies Christen.

 

Granfran has already left the room.

 

Gran is laughing as she calls from the hallway. “What are you two doing in there? I’ve been waiting for you to arrive and my damn stomach is about to eat itself.”

 

Over lunch, Gran talks about her husband, Christen’s grandfather.

 

“He was a big man. Just like Christen’s daddy. He was smart. Oh so smart! And he didn’t take bullshit from nobody.” Gran shakes her head as she has another bite of potato salad.  “We met when he was still an intern and I was just finishing up my art degree at Howard.”

 

“Oh my god you have to hear this.” Christen says excitedly. She arches her brow glancing at Tobin.

 

“Oh Dear Lord, you’re gonna make me tell this? Alright.” Granfran seems to say reluctantly. Tobin can tell that Gran loves telling this story.

 

“My degree at Howard was in ceramics. I loved to make anything out of clay. Didn’t matter if it was a pot or a person or someone’s toy poodle. I loved working that stuff. Molding it into something out of thin air.” Grandma motions for Christen to get more hot water for her tea. It's then that Tobin notices all the ceramics around the kitchen. Several hand thrown pots and vases, and even a few small figurines.

 

“One night, I had some clay on the wheel. I wasn’t sure what I was gonna make out of it. I smacked it into the middle like you’re supposed to. We had just gotten one of them fancy electric wheels. You could control the speed with your foot. We used to have to spin what they called a _kick wheel_ with your foot, before we got those electric ones. Those were the ones I was used to. 

 

It seemed like it was gonna go well.  It's tricky those wheels. You have to be careful that you have the mud down and solid against the wheel. I had gotten it into a good cylinder, when it suddenly started to wobble. I tried to keep it upright. I realized I didn’t have enough water, so I ran to the sink with the bucket. The wheel was still turning.  When I sat down, I hit something, I don’t know what. The damn thing, it just started to spin out of control! The mud came flying off and hit me in the face! All the sudden, I couldn’t see! I reached down to try and switch it off and got my hand caught on the edge of something! Dear Lord, the pain! I got up and stumbled to the sink and rinsed my eyes out.  When I finally could see, I saw blood gushing out of the back of my hand. I wrapped that hand in a dirty rag and ran across campus to the hospital.”

 

Tobin’s eyes are enormous.

 

“I ran into the emergency room, blood comin’ down my arm. I was in tears from the pain. A nurse saw me and took me back. It was the middle of the night and I remember the doctor coming in with one of his students. Doc looked me over, examined my hand and then turned to this white boy and said ‘clean her up.’ I thought ‘I don’t want some white kid givin’ me stitches!’ but I didn’t have much of a choice.  This kid, he brought in a tray with bandages and started cleaning out the wound. That hurt like hell. I just hated that white boy. After a few minutes, I finally looked up at his face. I realized he was trying to be so careful with me. I was still crying. At some point, he left the room. I thought he’d finally had enough of me and my crying. But he came back and offered me his handkerchief. He said ‘My mama sewed that for me.’ He knew when he started to stitch me up, I was gonna need that handkerchief.”

 

Gran gets up from her seat and walks out of the room.  Tobin looks at Christen, confused. _Where’d she go?_

 

When Gran comes back to the room, she says “Tobin, put your hands out, honey.”

 

Gran places a white piece of cloth into Tobin’s hands. When Tobin unfolds it, there in the corner of the still intact handkerchief, are the hand stitched letters “H.C.P.”

 

Tobin looks up at Gran in awe. She looks over at Christen, whose eyes are glassy.

 

“Turns out he wasn’t white. He was just light-skinned.” says Granfran, smiling.

 

After lunch, Tobin is cleaning up the kitchen so that Christen can spend some time with her grandmother. Tobin is looking at the ceramics in the kitchen. After she dries her hands, she walks into the living room.  She doesn’t know how she didn’t notice it when she walked in, but littered around the room, are ceramics of all sorts. They all are obviously the handiwork of Christen’s talented grandmother. 

 

On the edge of the mantel is vase that Tobin recognizes. Christen’s mother has the same or similar vase on the edge of their mantel in Palos Verdes.

 

“So I understand you’re in love with my grand-daughter.”  Granfran Press knows how to make an entrance.  

 

Tobin’s heart is in her throat as she turns and faces Gran. She’s speechless.

 

“Well are you?” Granfran sits in the chair by the front window, and rests her hands in her lap.

 

Tobin swallows hard. “Yes, m’aam.”

 

“Are you good to my grand-daughter?” Grans face shows she’s completely serious.

 

“I think so, m’aam.” Tobin can hardly breath.

 

“Please don’t call me m’aam.”

 

_Shit._

 

“I’m sorry, m’aa...um Gran.” Tobin is visibly sweating now.

 

Gran’s expression softens. She motions for Tobin to come sit on the ottoman nearby.  Tobin quickly complies. Gran is staring out the window for almost a full minute before she speaks again.

 

“I’ve known for awhile that Christen was...that way. That hasn’t really bothered me. What bothers me is that I don’t think anyone is good enough for any of my grand-daughters, but especially Christen. She is generous and gracious and beautiful. People have tried to take advantage of her good-nature before.” She looks Tobin in the eye. “Why do you love my grand-daughter?”

 

_What kind of question is that?_

 

Tobin takes a deep breath and swallows. At first she doesn’t seem to know how to answer, but then remembers that the truth has always served her well. She looks up and meets Granfran Press’s gaze.

 

“Gran, I love her…” Tobin gulps. “...because there’s no way for me not to.” Tobin feels her eyes start to well with tears.

 

The corner of Gran’s mouth turns upward. She stands up and shuffles over to Tobin and puts her hands out. Tobin stands and takes her hands.

 

“That. Is the _only_ right answer,” says Gran as she smiles and holds Tobin’s face in her hands.

 

* * *

 

 

After the afternoon adventure with Granfran and sharing stories from Christen’s childhood, Tobin’s upbringing in New Jersey, tales from the National Team and of course Tobin and Gran’s Come-to-Jesus, Tobin and Christen decide to stay in a hotel in Washington, DC to get some time to themselves.

 

“I’ve had an incredible time with you this week. Thank you,” says Tobin as she rubs Christen’s naked shoulder. Christen’s head is on Tobin’s shoulder after making love.

 

“I don’t want you to leave,” says Christen, a hint of sadness and anxiety in her voice.

 

Tobin has to fly out tomorrow and head back across the country to Portland for the NWSL pre-season.  Christen too has to be in Chicago in a few days for the Red Stars as well.

 

“I don’t want to leave either.”  Tobin kisses Christen on the forehead and then shifts so that she’s on her side facing Christen.  “Where is home for you?”

 

Christen’s brow is furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean. I guess home for me is Palos Verdes.”

 

“Yeah, do you have a place that you come back to? Where you can call it your own and get centered?  I never thought I would want a place to call my own, but I was thinking…”

 

“What?” Christen kisses Tobin.

 

“I’m gonna take my prize money from the World Cup and buy a house in Portland. Just a condo, really.  It won’t be any place huge, but it’ll be mine...and it could be yours too if you want to be able to call someplace home, other than PV.”  Tobin is breathless waiting for Christen to answer.

 

Christen gets a wry smile. “How big is the closet?”

 

“Pretty big.” Tobin is grinning.

 

“And is the tub big enough to fit two people?”

 

“Well, it depends on the two people, but if you’re talking about you and me, then, yes, we could both fit in there. Are you thinking post-lovemaking ice baths or something?” Tobin smirks.

 

“No, I was thinking of making love in the tub...a lot.” Christen eyes betray the desire she feels for Tobin. “I was thinking you could fuck me over and over in the tub. I was thinking I could go down on you and make you come and then fuck you with the bathtub full of water.”

 

Tobin’s mouth falls open. She takes a deep breath, puts her arms around Christen and kisses her deeply. Tobin will never get enough of Christen’s lips and tongue.

 

When she pulls away finally she’s grinning “So is that a ‘yes?’”

 

“Yessss…” says Christen, pulling Tobin on top of her.

 


	9. Chapter 9

“You have reached a heart that is a sea of love, in which you can see and find wisdom, the beauty of conversation, politeness, forgiveness, spirituality, respect, harmony and through all that the way of the soul where you deserve to be loved.” ― Ehsan Sehgal

 

* * *

 

 

In the fall of 2015, the NWSL announced expansion of the league, adding the new Orlando Pride.  Alex Morgan, U.S. International and Kaylen Kyle, Canadian international were traded from the Portland Thorns to Orlando.  

 

Alex’s husband, Serva Carrasco had been traded earlier to Orlando. Alex, only recently married, wants to be in the same city and football organization as her husband. She has her agents and lawyers run the legal gauntlet of figuring out all the trade and draft issues in order for Orlando to acquire her rights.  It's a win-win for everyone in the end, although Alex Morgan is more about her husband and family than she is about any amount of money or notoriety.

 

After the 2016 She Believes Cup, Tobin is sad knowing her long time friend and roommate is moving out.

 

Alex gathers the last of her belongings and shoves them into a backpack.  Her other belongings are long gone, air-freighted to Florida a few days earlier. She takes the apartment keys and puts them on the kitchen counter.

 

“Are you gonna buy that condo you were looking at?” asks Alex.

 

“Yeah. I think so.” Tobin is smiling to herself.

 

“Why are you smiling?”

 

“Christen.” Tobin’s grin is ear to ear.

 

“Christen what?” Alex asks.

 

“She’s moving in with me.”

 

“For real?”

 

“For real. Her mailing address will be our house...”

 

“Our?” Alex has a half-grin.

 

“Yeah. Our house. We’ll go back to L.A. in the off-season so we can train and be near her family.” 

 

Alex sits down next to Tobin and asks “Are you ready for that? And more importantly, are you gonna make an honest woman out of her and put a ring on it, Tobs?” 

 

Tobin’s smile disappears. Her heart starts to race.

 

“What’s wrong?” Alex recognizes the panic on Tobin’s face.

 

“I dunno. I’ve thought about it. A few times.” Tobin swallows, collecting herself. “Everytime I think about it, I get...I dunno.” Tobin shakes her head.

 

“What are you afraid of?” Alex is genuinely concerned.

 

“Fucking it all up,” says Tobin.

 

Alex chuckles “How in the hell could you possibly fuck that up?”

 

“I dunno. I’m just...worried about it. I’ve thought a lot about asking her to marry me. And every time I do that, I break out in a sweat. What if she says ‘no’?”

 

“Oh Tobin,” Alex pats her on the back. “That’s not gonna happen.”

 

* * *

 

 

The summer of 2016 is a rough road for the USWNT. They lose in the quarterfinal of the Rio Olympics. Christen misses the last penalty kick against Sweden, breaking the hearts of millions of American fans, not to mention, Christen’s.  

 

A few days later in Portland, Christen has still hardly said anything.

 

“Wanna go for a drive?” Tobin asks.

 

“Okay,” Christen says absently.

 

“I think you’ll like it,” says Tobin.

 

“Where are we going?” asks Christen.

 

Tobin will do anything. Anything...for the light to come back into Christen’s eyes.

 

“It's a surprise.”

 

Tobin pulls the car into midweek summer traffic. The sky is a deep blue. As close to southern California blue as Oregon will probably ever get. Tobin is thankful for the sun and the sky as they merge into morning traffic on the I-84 toward the airport.

 

Forty-five minutes into the drive, they’re no longer anywhere near Portland having passed Government Island in the Columbia River.

 

“Seriously Tobin, where are we going?” Christen’s question is bordering on frustration.

 

Tobin grins. “I’ll tell you this much. Sometimes, I need to just get time by myself. I get recognized a lot in the city and especially anywhere near Providence Park.” Tobin looks over at Christen. “Sometimes, I just have to go somewhere and be by myself. That’s where we’re going. I’ve never taken anyone there because I’ve always thought of it as _my spot_.”  Tobin glances at Christen. Christen’s mouth is open, the faintest hint of a smile.

 

“How did you find it?” Christen reaches over and kisses Tobin’s free hand.

 

“Remember how I missed like 6 months between 2013 and 2014 because of my ankle?”

 

“Yeah, I remember. You kind of disappeared.” Christen seems saddened by the memory.

 

“I couldn’t stand to watch any team that I was on. I’m still honestly like that. One day I decided to watch the National team. I don’t even remember who we were playing. I just remember sitting in front of the TV and just getting more and more frustrated and upset because I couldn’t be out there. I finally grabbed my car keys and left. Next thing I know I was driving on 84 to God-knows-where.”

 

“And then you found it.” Christen is smiling.

 

“And then I found it.” Tobin repeats. She looks over. Christen is beaming at her.

 

“I can’t wait.” says Christen.

 

_God, I love this girl._

  


Tobin’s heart lights as the city of Hood River comes into view around the last bend of I-84 through Seneca Fouts Memorial State Park.

 

Tobin pulls off at the confluence of the Hood and Columbia Rivers. They travel down a long narrow driveway to a small lot, next to an unusually large sand bar at the entrance to the Hood River. To their right is the Hood River Bridge. Across the Columbia River is the deep green forest of White Salmon, Washington.

 

“We’re here, baby.” Tobin kisses Christen on the cheek.

 

Much to Christen’s surprise.  Tobin has packed lunch and a blanket.  She also pulls a large bag out, the contents of which Christen is unable to make out.

 

“What is that?” Christen is smiling now.

 

Tobin giggles. “It's a surprise, too.” 

 

“Jeez. You and your surprises.” Christen pulls Tobin into an embrace and kisses her softly.

 

Christen and Tobin explore the sandbar. There are large tree stumps worn smooth by the rushing Columbia river. Tall patches of grass grow optimistically in the loose sand.  A steady breeze ripples over the sandbar playing the grass lines like an accordion. At some point during the colder weather, the Columbia River will flood and overrun much of the grass and these sandbars. Tobin knows there is a season to visit and another to stay away.

 

After lunch, Tobin and Christen are laying on the blanket watching the herons hunt the shallows and fly-fishermen attempting to catch fin-clipped coho and steelhead in the confluence of the two rivers. Both are amazed when the long rods bend and shudder with the weight of a fish on the line.

 

“How long have you had your ring?” Christen is looking at Tobin’s Cartier ring. It's been on Tobin’s right hand middle finger for seemingly forever.

 

“Hmm.” Tobin holds her hand up and examines the ring. “Since probably 2013? I used my Olympic money to buy that. I’ve worn it ever since.”

 

“I wish I had given that to you.” Christen says.

 

Tobin sits up and looks at Christen. Her heart swells at the question. “Why do you say that?”

 

“I just wish I could have given you a ring. That way, whenever you look at it, you’d think of me.” Christen says meekly.

 

It never seems like the right time to ask Christen _the question_. There’s too much going on. It doesn’t feel right. This feels like another of those moments.

 

“How about, whenever I look at this from now on, I’ll think of you.” Tobin says.

 

Christen squints at Tobin doubtfully. “How are you going to do that?”

 

Tobin takes a deep breath as she looks at Christen. “It's done. I’ll never be able to look at it again without thinking of you or this day.”

 

Christen beams at Tobin. She moves closer to Tobin and kisses her gently. “What’s this last surprise?”

 

“Oh yeah. I almost forgot.”  Tobin grabs the large bag and pulls two objects out. One is pink and the other is orange.”

 

Christen is almost breathless as she starts to grin. “What is that?”

 

Tobin pulls the pink object out of it's plastic to reveal that it's a fairly large kite.

 

“A kite?” Christen is taken aback. “A pink one.”

 

Tobin pulls out the other - an orange kite. “This one is mine.”

 

“Kites?” Christen is genuinely confused.

 

Tobin feels like she may cry if she tries to explain this.  She gathers herself for a moment and says “I know that the last few days have been...incredibly hard for you.  It's been hard for me to watch you suffer. I knew you needed time. I didn’t want to say anything canned or cliched. You deserve better than that. I just thought...you should always be looking up.” Tobin looks up and  points at the blue sky. “And I know how much you love your L.A. sunsets. I love them too.”

 

“Ah! Pink and orange!” exclaims Christen.

 

“Pink and orange.” Tobin unfurls the pink kite and attaches the line. She hands the kite spool to Christen.  Tobin holds the kite and walks several feet away. “Hold on tight, baby.” Tobin lets go of the kite. It falters in the breeze for a moment and then as if willed into the air by some unseen force, takes off into the sky.

 

“Aaaah! Ha! Ha!” Christen is laughing. Her mouth is wide open as the kite climbs higher and higher into the Oregon blue sky. She looks over at Tobin. “Tobin! Look!” The kite is suddenly still in the sky as if surveying the scene below. Suddenly, a breeze catches the pink kite and pulls it farther upward. “Oh!” cries Christen.

 

Tobin feels like her heart could break seeing the expression on Christen’s beautiful face. Christen has a look of joyful wonder as the pink kite climbs higher and higher toward the heavens.

 

Tobin attaches her line, drops the orange kite and begins to run. It too, takes off into the sky as it rips through the air and dances with Christen’s kite. Tobin feels so much joy, it overwhelms her.

 

After a few minutes, Christen walks over to Tobin and with one hand behind Tobin’s neck pulls her into a kiss. She whispers “Baby, can this be my place too?”

 

_I gotta marry this girl._

 

“It was yours before you ever got here.” Tobin gazes at Christen and returns the kiss as the pink and orange kites dance and soar in the beautiful blue above the Columbia River Gorge.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

2017 is an “off” year for the National Team.  There aren’t any major tournaments to speak of, so it’s a good time for players to work on themselves and take on other opportunities.  

 

Alex Morgan spends the first part of the year at Olympique Lyonnais playing with French superstars Wendie Renard, Amel Majri and Eugenie Le Sommer. She helps Olympique Lyon win the French League title and then the UEFA Champions League trophy.

 

Crystal Dunn ends her longtime contract with the Washington Spirit to play with Chelsea in England’s FA Women’s Super League. She scores twelve minutes into her first game.

 

Most of the rest of the team, stays in the domestic league so Jill Ellis can keep an eye on their progress.  And there is a regular schedule of US National Team games throughout the year.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin is injured during the She Believes Cup in March of 2017. 

 

The lingering back injury keeps her sidelined for most of the US National Team’s schedule and most of the NWSL season. The only upside of Tobin’s injury is she tells US Soccer and the Portland Thorns that she would prefer to do her rehab work in Chicago for most of the spring and summer. Tobin brings a single bag and moves into Christen’s new high-rise apartment overlooking the river and a magnificent but distant view of Lake Michigan.

 

For the most part, Tobin is incredibly happy to be here with Christen. Christen is overjoyed to have Tobin with her through most of the NWSL season. The first part of Tobin’s rehab is just to simply rest her back and do simple stretches. She takes walks through Chicago on days when Christen is training. Tobin is grateful she can spend every night in Christen’s bed. Unsurprisingly, Christen, at the end of the season, is on the NWSL Best XI as one of the league’s best strikers along with Marta and Sam Kerr. 

 

Still, there is another part of Tobin that longs to be back on the pitch. It is nearly physically impossible for her to watch the US National Team or even the Thorns on TV or in person. And watching Christen play with the Red Stars is a lesson in anxiety. That frustration comes to a head when Christen and Tobin make their way back to Portland for the Red Stars first matchup with the Thorns at Providence Park. 

 

In the twenty-second minute of the first half, Casey Short launches a cross toward Press at the near post of goal. Press makes an athletic leap for the ball intending to redirect it with her right foot. Portland’s new starting keeper, Adrianna Franch, instead of punching the ball, grabs Christen by the ankles and hauls her down. Press narrowly escapes smashing her head against the post and lands violently on the ground. The ref doesn’t call a foul.

 

Tobin is sickened and angry as she watches the play unfold from the players box high above the field.

 

“Motherfucker!” Tobin grits her teeth as she puts her hand to her mouth. Her heart is racing. She turns away, unable to watch Christen on the ground.

 

Someone in the box finally says “It's okay, Tobin. She’s up.” 

 

Tobin turns and sees Christen limp away from the collision. Tobin’s eyes well with tears as she feels anger flare in her chest. A few minutes later, Nadia Nadim buries a penalty kick to give Portland the lead.

 

As the half approaches, Tobin feels growing resentment towards Franch for the reckless play with Christen. _She could’ve seriously hurt her...or worse._ Finally, Tobin can’t take it anymore.

 

In the locker room, the Thorns are feeling good about their one goal lead. Nadim and Raso are dancing next to their lockers. There are smiles and laughs all around. 

 

“Ady! What the fuck?” Tobin says through gritted teeth.

 

Franch turns and sees Tobin standing in the locker room. Her hands in fists at her side.

 

Ady smiles and laughs. “What are you talking about, Tobs?”

 

“You couldn’t handle the ball like a real keeper? You had to haul down the best forward in the league?” Tobin is bitterly angry.

 

Franch is no longer smiling. The rest of the Thorns have fallen silent.

 

“Tobin. That was a fair play. It didn’t get called.” Ady shakes her head as she glares at Tobin.

 

“You got lucky you sorry piece of shit.” Tobin is remorseful the moment the words leave her lips, but she’s still far too angry to take it back.

 

“You better check yourself, Tobin.” Ady purses her lips and calmly pulls her gloves back on.

 

“Or what, Ady? You gonna haul me down too?” Tobin wants a fight, anything to justify her stupidity in this moment.

 

“Harry. C’mon.” Allie Long pulls Tobin aside.

 

“Let go of me.” Tobin pulls out of Allie’s grip.

 

“Harry. C’mon. You don’t mean this.” Allie has Tobin bodied off from the view of the rest of the players as she tries to push Tobin out of the room.

 

“Learn how to play the fucking game, Ady!” Tobin shoots Franch one last look as Allie shoves her out of the locker room.

 

Allie marches Tobin by the arm down the hall and into the trainers room.

 

“What the fuck, Tobin?” Allie almost never calls Tobin by her given name. They’ve only called each other “Harry” for the last few years.

 

Tobin is silent for several seconds as she tries to control her breathing. Tobin isn’t surprised when shame begins to creep up her throat and overtake her anger. 

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Dude. What is going on? Are you and Christen okay?”

 

“Jesus, Harry. I’m sorry. I was just...so mad about that play with Chris. It just made me crazy that she could’ve been hurt. I couldn’t help it. But I know that wasn’t a reason for me to act like that.” Tobin shakes her head, sighs and wipes the tears with her sleeve.

 

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you and Christen okay?”

 

“Yeah, we’re good. I just…”

 

“Uh oh. What?” Allie is going to get it out of Tobin one way or another.

 

“I’m basically living with her in Chicago and well, you know she lives here with me the rest of the time.”

 

Allie smiles and chuckles. “I know. You guys are an old married couple, already.”

 

“That’s the thing. I want...I’ve been trying to…I want to...” Tobin can’t say it. _Fuck._

 

“Harry. C’mon. Just get it out.”

 

Tobin stares at Allie and then with a deep breath says, “I want to marry her.”

 

Allie grins and finishes Tobin’s thought. “But you haven’t asked her yet, have you.”

 

“No.” Tobin feels pathetic as she looks at the ground.

 

“And why not?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m worried she might say ‘no’? Part of me thinks, maybe I’m just not good enough for her?”

 

“Jesus, Harry. I would fucking marry you. What makes you think you’re not good enough?”

 

“I don’t know.” Tobin has been trying to answer that question for awhile now.

 

“She loves you, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you love her too?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What is the problem? I don’t understand.” Allie is perplexed, given the circumstances.

 

“It doesn’t make sense to me either. It was hard enough getting those _other_ three words out.  But asking her to marry me. That means…” Tobin gulps at the realization. “...forever. That means...kids, and a house. Growing old together. I worry that would scare her. Hell, it scares me.” Tobin is overwhelmed but somehow smiling.

 

Allie smiles warmly at her friend. “Harry, those are all the things I’m actually looking forward to. Bati and I talk about it all the time. I think the two of you would make incredible parents and let’s be honest. Christen has better taste and is a better decorator than you are. That will come in handy with the house. Your kids are going to be completely sick ballers with you guys as their parents. And of course, Christen is still going to be way hot when you guys are old.”

 

Tobin chuckles. She knows it's true. Christen’s grandmother and aunt still look amazing for their age. And the idea of teaching their kids the sport they both love sounds like a dream come true.

 

“Harry, you’ll know when the time is right.” Allie gives her friend a reassuring hug.

 

“I hope so, Harry.”

 

* * *

 

Later in the apartment, Tobin is spent laying next to Christen after having made love immediately after the game, which is amazing, considering Christen played a full ninety minutes in the loss to Portland.

 

“I heard what you did,” says Christen into the darkness.

 

Tobin takes a deep breath and exhales.

 

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I freaked out a little. I just...feel...protective of you. That shoulda been called though.”

 

“I agree.”

 

“Wait, what are you agreeing to?” asks Tobin.

 

“That they shoulda called a penalty. And...that you freaked out a little.”

 

Even though Tobin can’t see Christen clearly, she can tell by the tone of her voice that she is smirking.

 

“I was just defending you,” Tobin declares.

 

“I know.” Christen turns and kisses Tobin softly. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tobin takes a position as an assistant technical director for the Portland Thorns development academy. Portland wants Tobin to help set cultural and technical direction for the academy youth. Tobin is excited for the challenge.

 

Tobin is called into camp in September for a few friendlies against New Zealand.  Tobin is subbed in for Mallory Pugh during the second game at Nippert Stadium in Cincinnati. 30,000- plus fans roar when Tobin makes her first appearance on the pitch since March. Tobin charges over to the far side of the field and marvels at the feel of the grass under her cleats. The stadium lights. The sound of all these people…

 

_I love this game._

 

Tobin makes it back to Portland for the last two games of the regular season and then goes on a rampage to help lead the Thorns to another NWSL Championship.

 

The USWNT have a pair of friendlies against longtime CONCACAF rival, Canada before the long holiday break. The first match is in one of Tobin’s and Christen’s favorite cities, Vancouver.

 

It is very cold in Vancouver in November, but Tobin and Christen decide to walk the “Canadian Trail” around Canada Place in order to get a good view of the city and especially Stanley Park.

 

Christen is wearing one of the assistant coach’s oversized down jackets. Even with her favorite tattered pink sweatshirt underneath, the jacket seems to swallow her whole. Tobin thinks Christen has never been lovelier.  

 

Christen is looking out over the water when Tobin suddenly realizes she is visibly sad.

 

“What’s wrong?” Tobin sidles up alongside Christen.

 

“I have to tell you something.”

 

“Okay, what is it?”

 

Christen is silent for too long. “Chicago is gonna trade me.”

 

“What?” Christen loves Chicago and her teammates.

 

“Don’t worry. I think it's time. Rory and I...I think we’ve run our course. I need to go somewhere I can learn and grow. Chicago isn’t it anymore, as much as that makes me sad. And he wants the new hot thing - Sam Kerr.” 

 

“Pfff. You’re a much better forward than Sam Kerr,” says Tobin.

 

Christen looks at Tobin and smiles ruefully. “I’m hoping that I’ll get traded to Portland or Seattle. And there are those rumors of a franchise in Utah. That way I’d be closer to you, but the truth is, I don’t know what is going to happen. I made a mistake not having an agent on retainer this year. So I suspect a lot of these deals have already been done. I’m trying to not worry about it, but I needed to let you know in case this totally goes south.”

 

“Nothing is going to go south.” Tobin says reassuringly as she holds Christen from behind. Her head is on Christen’s shoulder as they watch a flock of Canada geese skim the water on their way to land.

 

* * *

 

 

After the second match in San Jose, Christen and Tobin head back to Los Angeles and find a small house on Manhattan Beach. It's perfect. Christen is able to have the dogs in the house and spends time reading when she isn’t training with Tobin.

 

“Can you stay for Thanksgiving?” Christen asks one morning over coffee.

 

Tobin’s eyes wrinkle as a smile forms on her lips. “I would love to. Is it just your family?”

 

“Well, sort of.”

 

“What do you mean ‘sort of’?”

 

“Well, Granfran will be there, and both of my sisters and their husbands and boyfriends, and then some of our cousins from New York, and a few from Virginia and Union City, and then my other relatives from Maryland, my mom’s best friend and some of my dad’s friends and then some of my high school friends…”  Christen pauses and notices Tobin’s eyes are saucers.

 

_Are you planning to let them all know who I am?_

 

“Don’t worry, my parents, not to mention, Granfran and my sisters, have all been talking about you. Everyone else knows... _something_.” says Christen. She’s giggling knowing Tobin is somewhat frustrated.

 

“Yes, but do they know that you and I are _together_?” asks Tobin.

 

“Well…” Christen winces.

 

“Wait. Were you just planning on announcing to everyone that I’m your girlfriend at Thanksgiving dinner?” Tobin asks in disbelief.

 

Christen is still wincing and finally relents, nodding her head. “Basically.” 

 

“Oh boy.” says Tobin.

 

“Oh girl.” Christen grins and kisses Tobin.

 

* * *

 

 

Thanksgiving in the Press household is a multi-day affair.  The first day there are probably thirty people, give or take, in the house. 

 

“Hey, Tobin.” Tobin turns to find the youngest Press daughter standing in the breezeway to the garage. Tobin is holding two bags of ice on her shoulders.

 

“Hey, Chu.” Tobin shifts the bags on her shoulders. They’re starting to melt. 

 

“So, looks like my mom has you running around a little?” Channing smirks.

 

“Yep.” Tobin doesn’t mind. “What’ve you got there?”

 

Channing is holding an enormous bowl. “I supposedly make the best guacamole. I just think Mom finds it too labor intensive, and I’m the only one who puts in enough lime juice.” 

 

“Is guacamole Thanksgiving food?” Tobin is wrinkling her nose at the idea. Tobin is an east coast Thanksgiving traditionalist.

 

“In SoCal and in this house? You’d better believe it.”  Channing grins as she motions for Tobin to get moving.

 

Dinner is served buffet style, but with everyone sitting at the dining room table.  Granfran eyes Tobin and pats the seat next to her.

 

Tobin smiles at Christen and says proudly, “Granfran wants me next to her.”

 

“Well, get goin’ then.” Christen is amused by Granfran’s apparent favoritism.

 

Tobin has filled a plate and is ready to eat when she sits down and realizes Granfran has nothing in front of her.

 

“Gran, would you like me to get you a plate?” Tobin asks politely.

 

“Oh good. Yes, get me some of the good salad Stacey makes. And don’t get any of that mushroom green bean mess. Dear lord, I can’t stomach that shit. And I need gravy. Lots of it. On my potatoes and my turkey. And if Chan has some of that guaca...mamolo stuff she makes, get me some of that too.”  

 

Tobin tries to remember everything. She doesn’t want to make Granfran repeat everything. She gets the turkey and potatoes and she’s about to put a huge dollop of… _Shit. Is it green bean casserole or guac_?  Tobin takes the spoon and is about to put a huge spoonful of green bean casserole on Granfran’s plate, when a huge hand comes down and engulfs Tobin’s hand and the spoon. Tobin looks up. It's Christen’s dad.

 

“You put that on my mother’s plate and we might have to call the squad. You really wanna be responsible for ruining Thanksgiving?” Cody Press, otherwise known as Big Daddy or Big Donkey, depending on who you talk to, has the same warm smile as his beautiful middle child.  He puts the spoon back in the casserole and hands Tobin the spoon to Channing’s guacamole. “Don’t forget the salad,” says B.D..

 

Tobin ends up sandwiched between Granfran and B.D. at the end of the table.  It's only slightly nerve wracking. Tobin still has never had a significant conversation with B.D. about his daughter. If she’s being honest, Harry Cody Press, III, unnerves her in a way she isn’t able to explain.  The last time she had asked Christen why her father could sometimes be a little aloof, Christen replied “Give him time. He’s working on it.”

 

It's been over a year now. Tobin is still waiting.  Over dinner, Tobin catches Cody Press sizing her up. He doesn’t look angry or upset, just sort of resigned and even questioning. Tobin’s heart beats a little faster.

 

After dinner, the family moves outside onto the patio facing the ocean. It's the golden hour in southern California on this Thanksgiving evening. Christen has her hair down and looks beautiful in the setting sunlight. She glances often at Tobin. The sort of glances that make Tobin’s heart flutter. Granfran is telling stories to the family by the firepit.  Tobin takes her wine glass and walks out to the edge of the grass so that she can get a better look at the ocean and a moment to herself as the orange and pink sun creeps toward the horizon.

 

“We’ve lived here for a long time. I’m still not used to that view.”

 

Tobin takes a deep breath. She turns and Cody Press is standing next to her, a cocktail in one hand and an unlit cigar in the other. Tobin is pretty sure the cigar is contraband in the Press household. 

 

“I can see that,” is the only thing Tobin can think of saying. 

 

“Don’t tell anyone about this.” Mr. Press holds the cigar up and looks back at the family thirty yards away. Cody Press looks uncomfortable, even nervous. He wants to say something.

 

 _Just ask Tobin. What is there to lose?_  Tobin looks back at the horizon, steeling herself for the conversation.

 

“Do you have something you want to ask me?” Tobin asks, resolve in her voice.

 

Tobin hears a deep chuckle. Tobin turns and looks at B.D., who looks almost as nervous as Tobin feels.

 

“What are you going to do after you retire?” asks B.D..

 

 _What?_ Tobin’s brow furrows.

 

“I don’t understand what you mean. I...I haven’t gotten that far yet. That’s years in the future.” Tobin is confused by the line of questioning.

 

“What are you and Mo going to do after you retire? After she retires?” _Mo_ has been B.D.’s nickname for Christen since she was little. 

 

It suddenly occurs to Tobin, B.D. wants to know if Tobin is in this for the long-haul. He’s worried about his daughter’s future. Tobin knows she is not what Cody Press envisioned for his beautiful and talented daughter. But Tobin can tell, he’s at least trying.

 

“Sir…”

 

“Please don't’ call me _sir_.”

 

_Shit._

 

“Uh, Mr. Press.”

 

“No.” Cody Press is shaking his head. “Just call me B.D. It's what everyone calls me.”

 

“B.D.,” Tobin begins. She’s looking at the ground and realizes this is something she needs to say to his face. “I’ve never been much of a planner. I’ve been lucky so far. Somehow I’ve lived this sort of life where my schedule has always been planned for me. The big events. The work. The matches. But I’m not stupid enough to think that I’ll have that luxury after I retire.” Tobin pauses to gauge B.D.’s reaction. He’s looking right at Tobin. “I wasn’t planning on falling in love with your daughter, sir.  And I don’t think it was her plan to fall in love with me either.” 

 

Cody Press still hasn’t said anything, so Tobin switches gears. “I know someday I want to have what my sisters have. Families with beautiful kids and a place to call home. Someone to come home to. I have an amazing family. They’ve supported and believed in me and that has always helped me believe in myself. I work hard, sir. I alway have. Just like Christen.” Tobin gets a wry smile. “Actually, I probably don’t work quite as hard as Christen.”  Tobin sighs and looks up at B.D..

 

Cody Press has a faint smile as he looks at Tobin. “Nobody works as hard as Christen.”

 

“Nobody.”

 

“Nobody.” Cody Press takes another sip from his glass. “Are you going to marry my daughter.”

 

 _Keep it together, Tobin._ Tobin takes another sip of her wine.

 

“If she’ll have me.” Tobin says truthfully.

 

“Have you asked her?” Cody asks.

 

“No sir. Not yet.” Tobin’s jaw feels tight. She looks Cody Press in the eye and says “I think I have to ask you and your wife, first.” It's a question.

 

“How ‘bout you start with me.” Cody Press is grinning at Tobin.

 

Tobin knows what she wants. Here is the opportunity to move forward. Tobin’s heart is full and sure. She looks Cody squarely in the eye.

 

“B.D. I love your daughter. She loves me. I’m prepared to do whatever I need to do to make her happy. I’ve had a taste of what life would be like with her. I want the whole thing. I want to be hers and for her to be mine. I’d like your permission to ask her to marry me, sir.”

 

Harry Cody Press’s lower lip juts out. He’s looking at the ground. He sets his glass down. When he looks up, his eyes are glassy. His lower lip is quivering. He walks toward Tobin and puts his left hand on her shoulder. He holds his right hand out.

 

Tobin puts her hand out. Cody grabs and squeezes it hard and then looking Tobin in the eye, shakes her hand. Suddenly, Tobin is engulfed in Cody’s embrace. Tobin can barely breath from how hard Christen’s father is hugging her.  “You have this idea...a dream of what you think your child’s future will be. I couldn’t imagine an alternative. I couldn’t see it...until now.” He pulls back, a remorseful look on his face, and holds Tobin by her shoulders. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

 

Tobin is overwhelmed by the moment. She swallows the emotion in her throat.

 

“Better late than never.” Tobin is smiling a toothy grin at B.D..

 

Cody laughs and says “Screw it. I’m lighting this thing.” He pulls a lighter out and puts a flame to end of his cigar.

 

A minute later, Tobin and Cody hear “Is that cigar smoke I smell?”  It's Stacey Press.

 

“Yeah. Sorry, honey. We’re celebrating.” B.D. smiles at Tobin.

 

“What are we celebrating?” Stacey asks.

 

“Tell her.” Cody waves his cigar at Tobin and then places it in his toothy grin.

 

Stacey is even more overjoyed than her husband. Tobin asks Stacey not to say anything to anyone else.  Tobin wants to find the right moment to pop the question. She tells them both that it may not be for a while.

 

“Okay, we won’t tell anyone that, but there is something I want to say to the family,” Stacey says. “C’mon.” She motions for Cody and Tobin to follow her back to the patio.

 

_Uh oh._

 

“Everyone.” Stacey has her arm around Tobin’s shoulder. The family falls silent, waiting for Stacey. Christen’s eyes are bulging out of her head. Stacey announces “In case you haven’t met this young lady, this is Tobin, Christen’s girlfriend.”

 

_Crickets._

 

“Oh Mom!  Everyone already knows that,” Channing is rolling her eyes.

 

“Yeah, that is old news,” says Tyler, Christen’s older sister.

 

Channing turns excitedly to her Grandmother. “C’mon Granfran. Finish your story.”

 

“Ooh.” Stacey says. She winces at Tobin. “Old news.” After a beat, “Who’s ready for pie?”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

A few days after Thanksgiving, Tobin and Christen catch a flight from Los Angeles to London. Christen is an ambassador and guest of honor for the Grassroot Soccer Gala. Tobin tags along although she stays out of the limelight, leaving all the attention, not to mention cameras on Christen and David Beckham.

 

Tobin is thrilled to have some time with Christen in a city and country where they’re basically unknown. London is wonderful in the winter.  It's fairly temperate in England. Walking around London in the winter is a dream with Tobin frequently holding Christen’s hand.  

 

They visit Carnaby Street in Soho. Carnaby had long been an area of working class housing and markets until the city decided to pedestrianize the street, allowing only foot traffic during peak business hours in order to increase the amount of commercial investment and gentrification. That didn’t entirely work. Up until as recently as the 80’s, Soho was known for it's sex trade. Now it's known for its thriving shops, restaurants, and residential flats.

 

A few days later, they take in the Manchester United and Arsenal derby at Emirates Stadium near Highbury.  Tobin has been a “gooner” or an Arsenal fan her entire life. She loves the perceived working-class ethic of Arsenal and has long subscribed to legendary coach Arsène Wenger’s philosophies around fitness, diet and attacking football.  It's a thrill for Tobin to be there to witness the game, but the event is even more special having Christen by her side.

 

Arsenal loses to Manchester United, much to Tobin’s disappointment.

 

Later, in the taxi, Christen notices that Tobin has been twisting her right foot in discomfort every so often as they make their way back to their hotel in London.

 

“What’s going on with your foot?” Christen asks, a look of concern on her face.

 

Tobin exhales. “If it's what I think it is, it's not good.”

 

“What do you think it is?” 

 

“I keep getting this bone spur on my right ankle. Something about how I stand or run or even walk. I don’t know. I’m hoping it will just resolve itself, but I have a meeting with Sameer when we get back.”

 

Dr. Sameer Nagda has been the US Women’s National team orthopedist for a few years now. He’s energetic and figuratively, on the ball when it comes to the US team’s feet. Tobin doesn’t really want to see him, but she’d rather get started getting her ankle right before the 2019 World Cup year, if it comes to that.

 

Right now though, she doesn’t want to think about that.

 

“I made dinner reservations for us.” says Tobin. It's their second to last night in London.

 

“Oh really?” Christen is looking softly at Tobin. It still makes Tobin weak. “Where are we going?”

 

“ _Andrew Edmunds_.”

 

“Who is that?”

 

“It's not a _who_ . It's a _where_ ,” Tobin chuckles. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

 

“You know me well. You know I don’t put out unless I get dinner.” Christen is half-joking.

 

“Oh. I know.” Tobin is smiling her toothy grin.

 

Andrew Edmunds is only a few blocks over from Carnaby Street in old Soho. It occupies two floors of an ancient building on Lexington Avenue. It's known for its seasonal menus and impressive wine list. Tobin has picked it for it's reputation and its wide array of vegetarian options, but the fact that the upstairs is candlelit and effortlessly romantic is the main reason.

 

Tobin is dressed up for dinner. Her favorite green pea coat over black jeans, one of Christen’s Dior dress shirts and her black Thursday boots.

 

Christen emerges from the hotel bathroom. Her long hair is down and loose around her shoulders. Christen is wearing her favorite Virgil Abloh Off-White long-sleeved black dress. She finishes the ensemble with her favorite pair of black studded ankle boots. She looks positively stunning.

 

 _Sweet Jesus._ Tobin considers skipping dinner for a moment, but decides against it.

 

Christen and Tobin are immediately recognized by the host at Andrew Edmunds. It takes her only a split second to understand Tobin and Christen’s relationship. She doesn’t make a fuss at all. She seats them at a table separate and slightly obscured from the rest of the restaurant.

 

A few minutes later, a waiter appears with a pair of glasses, an ice bucket and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. He quickly pulls the tin and winding off and pops the cork. He pours two glasses and says “Courtesy of the house, Mesdames.” He snaps the dinner napkin from over his arm, wraps it around the neck of the bottle and places it in the ice. “Your waiter will be here shortly.”

 

Tobin’s eyes are saucers. She takes a sip of the champagne and smiles. “Sometimes it pays to be us.” Tobin grins and holds her glass up. Christen smiles and clinks her glass with Tobin’s.

 

“To us.” Christen says.

 

Three courses and another bottle of red wine later, Tobin is feeling happily drunk.

 

Tobin considers asking Christen _the question_ , but she suddenly remembers she doesn’t have a ring yet.

 

Christen is cradling her chin on the back of her hand as she swirls her wine glass with the other. Christen is tipsy too. “Have you thought about what you want to do after you retire?”

 

_What is it with the Press family and these crazy hard questions?_

 

“A little bit. I have a few thoughts about that.” Tobin tries not to give too much away.  It doesn’t work.

 

“You care to share some of these thoughts?” Christen is suddenly sitting up straight.

 

Tobin doesn’t want to give too much away. “I think I want to do something with coaching. I have that Development Academy gig. I think that will be interesting. Whatever I do, it has to have something to do with football.”

 

“I was thinking of doing something like sports marketing. I think there’s a lot of room for improvement in women’s sports marketing. I wanna help change that at some point.” Christen drains the rest of her glass.

 

“I know you can do it.” Tobin says. 

 

Christen is staring intently at Tobin. Tobin searches Christen’s eyes. They both have something to say. _The words_ are on the tip of Tobin’s tongue.

 

“Take me back to the hotel,” says Christen.

 

“Are you okay?” 

 

“I’ll be better after you make love to me.” Christen’s heavy lids are part alcohol, but mostly desire.

 

Tobin’s back straightens as she motions to the waiter and makes a check sign in the air.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobin and Christen reach a crucial point in their relationship.

_If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it. --_ Toni Morrison, _Song of Solomon_

 

* * *

 

The U.S. Soccer National Training Center at Carson in California have, in addition to the greatest federation soccer facilities in the world, a staff dedicated to all player issues including in-game performance, conditioning, health and even psychological evaluations.  

 

The U.S. Soccer Performance staff have in the last few years become maniacal in their pursuit of marrying science and technology with performance analysis.  Tobin over the last several years has taken advantage of the organizations obsessive attention to detail to improve nearly every aspect of her game. Thanks to U.S. Soccer, Tobin, for all intents and purposes, is a finely honed _soccer machine_ and an expert in nearly all aspects of her game.  Still, dealing with injuries is always handled on an individual player basis. There are still unknowns and factors that will vary from player to player. Everyone is different.

 

* * *

 

“Whaddya think, Sammy?” Tobin is perched on the edge of the exam table with her foot in Sammy Nagda’s hands. Tobin has had a number of injuries over the years including an ankle injury during the NWSL semifinal in 2013. Tobin wasn’t forthcoming with the Thorns staff on her injury and played through the championship game knowing her ankle wasn’t one hundred percent. That old injury has probably compounded the current problem she has with her ankle. As Tobin has gotten older, she has learned to do the right thing by her body when needed.

 

Dr. Sameer Nagda is a straight shooter, but also sensitive to the inevitable player disappointment that accompanies an injury. The problem in this case is there’s no way to soften the blow literally or figuratively.

 

“If you want to be ready for the next World Cup, you have to have the surgery now,” says Sammy.

 

Tobin grimaces and looks at her right foot. It looks fine, but it hasn’t felt fine in a long time. 

 

“Okay, when can we do this?” Tobin frowns.

 

“How ‘bout next week?” Sameer knows Tobin is chomping at the bit to get this over with.

 

“Okay. Next week.” 

  


Tobin gets home and finds Christen on the phone.

 

“Denise, isn’t there anything you can do?” Christen is talking to her new agent. “I just don’t want to end up somewhere that doesn’t make sense…” 

 

Tobin kisses Christen on the cheek. Christen is distracted.

 

“I understand. I just want to know my options. Okay, can you work on that? Thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow…. Okay, bye.”  Christen is a little on edge. She has little to no control over the pending trades that are happening, one of the more unfortunate byproducts of U.S. Soccer’s agreement with the domestic league.

 

“Any news?” asks Tobin.

 

“No.” Christen says blankly. Morena is begging for attention. “Morena. Sit.” Christen looks up at Tobin and then at her right foot. “Any news with your foot?”

 

Tobin sighs and sits on the couch. “Yeah. If I wanna be ready for the World Cup, I have to do the surgery right now.”

 

Christen sits next to Tobin and rubs her back. “Well, we’re a pretty pair, aren’t we.”

 

There’s only silence in the room for a moment.

 

“Hey, I told my Mom about the surgery. She wants to come out and stay with us to help out. You have to be in camp that same week and she wants to look after me while you’re gone.” Tobin tries to be cheerful.

 

“I wish I could be here all day to take care of you,” Christen frowns. At least she won’t be far, she’ll only be in Carson some twenty miles away. Christen has already gotten permission to stay at home in Los Angeles during camp and not in the team hotel.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be good. My Mom will be here and you need to concentrate on your game and the team.” Tobin bends over and pets Morena on the head, tugging on her ears. Morena whimpers and licks Tobin’s hand.

 

“I need to tell you something.” Christen has a worried expression.

 

“Okay.” Tobin is anxious.

 

“You know me. I have a tendency to overthink things. Sometimes, the truth is, that’s actually sort of useful.” Christen shifts on the couch. She looks Tobin in the eye. “If I get traded to a team that I don’t want to go to...well...I’m just not going to go.”

 

“What? I don’t understand.” Tobin is confused.

 

“I’ve been reading the league bylaws and U.S. Soccer’s rules as well. There is nothing in there that says I’m in breach of a contract on either side if I choose not to go to the team.” Christen explains. “Denise has looked it over. She agrees.”

 

“Wait. Wait...what are you saying?” Tobin is swirling.

 

Christen takes both of Tobin’s hands and pulls them into her lap. She looks at Tobin’s hands. “ _Plan A_ is I get one of the teams I want and I go there. End of story.”

 

“And _Plan B_ …” Tobin’s heart is beating fast. None of this sounds good.

 

“ _Plan B_ is I don’t get any of the teams I want...” Christen’s eyes are starting to well up with tears. She looks up at Tobin “...and I go play overseas.” Christen searches Tobin’s face for a reaction.

 

_What about us? What about me?_

 

Tobin feels her heart push up into her throat. She takes a deep breath through her nose and scratches the top of her head nervously. She knows that no matter what she is selfishly thinking or feeling, she has to be supportive. She tamps down the fear in her body.

 

Tears have already started to fall from Christen’s eyes. “Jill says...that I have to be in regular competition and if I don’t do that here, then I have to go somewhere in order to have any hope of continuing with the national team.”

 

“Fucking Jill.” Tobin doesn’t hate Jill. She hates this rule. Tobin takes a thumb and tries to wipe Christen’s tears away, but she’s sobbing now.

 

“I might be there...for a long time. We’ll be... so far apart. It's not...fair to you.” Christen looks at Tobin and whispers desperately “ _I don’t want to lose you._ ”

 

Tobin pulls Christen into a tight embrace and whispers, “That will never happen. You won’t ever lose me.” She pulls back and says calmly “and lets not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s wait and see what happens before we start putting the cart before the horse. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” says Christen, wiping tears away with her sleeve.

 

“I love you. No distance is going to change that.” Tobin swallows the panic she feels as she kisses Christen gently.

 

_Dear God. Please..._

  


The following week, Tobin has outpatient surgery to remove a bone spur from her right ankle.  She awakens in the recovery room to find her mother and girlfriend giggling together at her bedside.

 

_I must be dreaming…_ Tobin falls back asleep.

 

Tobin is not a fan of Schedule II narcotics. They make her feel disconnected and dim. Still, she understands she has to take something to deal with the pain. The doctor agrees to let her take Ibuprofen, but stresses that the type of surgery she’s had is serious and requires serious pain-killers.  He also sends her home with Oxycontin and tells Tobin’s mother to give them to Tobin if she finds the pain to be too much, stressing that it's important to control the pain. 

 

Back at the house, Tobin wakes and tries to flip over in the bed, but remembers her right foot and leg is in multiple layers of plaster and bandages. Earlier she had to finally take an Oxycontin to deal with the pain. With some difficulty, she pushes herself up until she’s sitting. After getting her bearings, she hears Christen and her mother murmuring in the kitchen. 

  


“Tobin was always outside. I had to send her sisters out to get her every night before dinner during the summer.” Cindy Heath is reminiscing about her youngest daughter.

 

“What was she doing?” Christen is laughing.

 

“Oh Lord! You name it. She was skateboarding with the boys or playing soccer or playing baseball or fishing in the pond. She was such a rambunctious kid, but she was such a good kid. She got dressed up for church every Sunday. She looked after her little brother. She helped out around the house without asking.”

 

“Really? I can’t get her to pick up her sweats.” Christen grins at the thought.

 

“I never said she was perfect. But she’s pretty close, in my opinion.” Cindy Heath smiles and sips her coffee.

 

“I agree,” says Christen.

 

Cindy Heath has been looking at Christen for several minutes debating whether or not to ask this question. Curiosity gets the better of her. “So tell me how you two met. I’ve heard Tobin’s side of the story.”

 

Christen has a faraway look. “Tobin thinks we met at the College Cup Final. We didn’t.”

 

“Oh really? I thought that’s where you met.” Cindy says.

 

“No.” Christen looks at Cindy and then with a half-grin asks “You had to drive Tobin to ODP all the time right?”

 

“Goodness. Yes.” Cindy rolls her eyes at the thought. “Once the Olympic Development Program saw Tobin, we were driving her to events two or three times a week.”

 

“My Mom and Dad drove us all the time too. All the regional ODP was in Pasadena while my family lived in Palos Verdes. That was three hours in the car every time we had to go do ODP. My dad would bring a pillow and say ‘you’re an athlete and you need your rest.’” Christen laughs at the memory.

 

“So you met at ODP?” asks Cindy.

 

“Yep, at National Camp in Tampa in 2001. She doesn’t remember yet. I’ve been waiting for her to say something about it.” Christen has a playful knowing smile.

 

“Okay. Now I have to hear this.” Cindy pours herself another cup.

 

“I was thirteen and Tobin was fourteen. Somehow we ended up on the field together during a scrimmage. It was a West Coast versus East Coast thing. I had never seen anybody handle the ball like she does.  Even then, she wanted to dribble one on one all the time. I remember my Dad complaining that she was ‘hogging’ the ball.” Christen pauses and grins to herself. “But then my team won the scrimmage and I remember Tobin being really upset. Afterward, I was standing next to her while the coaches were organizing the next group. I turned to her and said ‘I think you’re totally incredible.’” Christen blinks at the thought. “She looked at me like I’d just said the most unexpected thing. She said “thank you” and then she smiled at me. I never forgot that smile.” Christen looks lost in her thoughts. “I knew she was going to do great things. When we met again at the College Cup, I somehow knew she wouldn’t remember me. But then we had this moment on the field after my team lost.”

 

“She’s talked about that moment. How much it affected her, knowing you were so upset.” Cindy Heath smiles at Christen. “I think it was more than that, of course.”

 

“It was definitely more than that.” Christen grins.

 

“You love my daughter, don’t you.” Cindy Heath says unexpectedly. 

 

Christen is quiet for what seems too long. Eventually Christen says, “In ways, I’ll never be able to explain.”

 

 

* * *

 

The sound of firecrackers still pierce the night time, days after the New Year. Tobin is thankful that their bedroom at least has a view of the lights dancing in the night sky above the beach.

 

Fortunately, with the doors closed, the sound isn’t so bothersome. There’s only the occasional thud from a distant explosion as it bumps against the glass. Still, the dogs both take up all the room around Christen as they seek comfort and protection from the clatter outside.

 

A fluorescent purple suddenly lights up the interior of the bedroom and fades just as quickly.

 

“Ooh! That was a pretty one!” says Tobin. She turns and sees Christen gazing at her intently.  Tobin shifts and turns on the bed as much as she can. Christen is playing with the ring on Tobin’s hand. She can’t quite read Christen in the intermittent darkness of the room. “What are you thinking?” she whispers.

 

Christen smiles and says quietly, “That you’re on drugs.” Christen giggles. “And that I love you.”

 

Tobin’s chuckles and feels her heart swell. She’s never felt this for anyone. She is completely and utterly in love with Christen. 

 

Tobin shoos Morena out of the way and reaches over and puts her arms around Christen. Tobin kisses Christen tenderly for several seconds. Before long, the kiss deepens. She tries to turn over so she is on top of Christen, but a pain shoots through her leg under the cast.

 

“Ow.” Tobin whimpers.

 

“No, baby.” Christen pushes Tobin onto her back. “Let me.”

 

Christen straddles Tobin. She leans forward and kisses Tobin, a hand behind Tobin’s neck. Reaching behind her head with both hands Christen pulls off her pajama top and throws it on the floor.  Tobin gazes at Christen naked above her. She sits up and puts an arm around Christen’s waist. Christen slips her fingers under the bottom of Tobin’s t-shirt and pulls it over her head.

 

Tobin pulls Christen into a tight embrace, feeling skin on skin. Christen’s arms wrap around Tobin’s head and neck. Tobin plants light kisses on Christen’s breasts and nipples.

 

Another firecracker lights the sky outside. White, orange and pink trails of gunpowder race through the sky as Tobin looks up and sees a tear escape from Christen’s eye.

 

Tobin says nothing. She knows that Christen is overwhelmed by the moment and for the uncertainty of the future.  If only she could make Christen believe it. That it would take an act of God to pull them apart. Still, Tobin is nearly as apprehensive about the future as Christen.

 

_I need to believe it too._  

 

Tobin’s fights the lump in her throat, wipes the tears from Christen’s face and kisses her gently.

 

“I love you in ways I’ll never be able to explain,” Tobin whispers.

 

Christen leans back. A curious look on her face. She wipes her eyes and puts her hands on Tobin’s shoulders. Tobin has a half-grin.

 

“You were listening?” Christen looks at Tobin, her mouth open in surprise.

 

“Yeah.” Tobin searches Christen’s eyes as she runs a thumb along the edge of Christen’s jaw.

 

“How did you get down the stairs?” asks Christen in disbelief.

 

Tobin is smiling her goofy grin. “First of all, I’m super-stealthy. Second, I’m a professional athlete. Have you seen my calves?” 

 

Christen squints and gives Tobin a faux shove for her insolence. “So wait. Do you remember ODP in Tampa?” asks Christen.

 

“Oh yeah. I totally remember you from that scrimmage. What you said to me.” Tobin kisses Christen. “Thank you for that.”

 

Christen smiles at Tobin. Suddenly, she stands up and edges her panties down. Tobin is nearly breathless. Christen tosses them on the floor and then kneels down and eyeing Tobin lustfully, pulls Tobin’s boxers off.  

 

Tobin watches as Christen straddles her again. Christen leans forward and presses her belly and breasts against Tobin. She kisses Tobin, gently exploring Tobin’s mouth with her tongue. Tobin is so turned on feeling Christen’s beautiful muscular back and the slope of her waist. Tobin’s hands wander down until they’re cupping Christen’s perfect ass.

 

Christen is careful not to hurt Tobin’s foot, as she carefully pulls Tobin’s legs apart. Christen plants soft kisses on Tobin’s stomach and nips Tobin’s abs and hip bones. Christen pays attention to Tobin’s midsection for a long time, but then Tobin feels Christen’s hand drop down between her legs. Tobin exhales as Christen pushes a finger inside and then slowly swirls her finger.  

Tobin can barely speak. “Oh, that feels so good.”

 

Christen kisses Tobin deeply and adds another finger. Christen begins an achingly slow rhythm as Tobin groans. Christen teases and tortures Tobin for several minutes but then starts to pick up the pace. 

 

Christen kisses Tobin and whispers “I love you” in Tobin’s ear. A few seconds later the sensation is more than Tobin can take. Tobin comes as another explosion of pink and blue trails across the sky and lights Christen’s body in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Christen heads out for the beginning of January camp.  Tobin and her mom decide to go for a walk so Tobin can start getting used to the crutches she will need to use for the next several weeks.

 

“I hate these things.” Tobin fumbles with the crutches trying to get them in a position that is comfortable. She has to keep weight off her foot for the next three weeks at the very least. After several minutes, Tobin realizes there is no getting comfortable. She’ll just need to endure them for now.

 

Manhattan Beach on this early weekday morning is devoid of people. Tobin is thankful that she has done so much upper body work. Having so much arm and core strength makes this at least a little bit easier. She hobbles up the path under the watchful eye of her mother to the _Ocean View Cafe_ for breakfast. 

 

“Mom?” Tobin has finished eating and is enjoying the cool morning and view of the Pacific from the patio of the restaurant. She has something to tell her mother.

 

“Yes, honey?” 

 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

 

Tobin isn’t sure why, but she’s nervous about the conversation she’s about to have with her mother. Cindy Heath rests her hands in her lap and waits in anticipation.

 

“I’m going to ask Christen to marry me.”

 

Cindy Heath’s mouth falls open. She’s silent for a moment as she gazes at Tobin. Tobin can’t get a read from her expression.

 

“Mom?”

 

“Yes, honey.”

 

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

 

Tobin’s heart feels raw looking at her mother. She’s never been very forthcoming with details of her personal life.  She told her mother that she was gay when she was in college. Her fairly religious mother took a long time to come to terms with Tobin’s sexuality, but eventually came around. Now she’s very supportive, but this strange silence is almost more than Tobin can take.

 

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Tobin feels as though she may cry.

 

“Nothings wrong honey.” Cindy Heath finally looks up at Tobin and with a questioning expression asks. “I’m just wondering how that works. It's traditionally the responsibility of the bride’s parents to pay for and plan the wedding and the reception. But...since...you’re _both_ brides...how does that work?”

 

A smile begins to form on Tobin’s face. She realizes her mother has already been planning her wedding, regardless of who Tobin may have married. She chuckles a little at the question.

 

“How about we figure that out when the time comes,” Tobin says smiling broadly at her mother. 

 

“You know I think Christen is an amazing girl, right?” Cindy Heath is starting to look overwhelmed. Her eyes well with happy tears.

 

Tobin’s heart swells with love for her beautiful mother. She gets up without grabbing her crutches and tries to hug her mother, but begins to fall.

 

Thankfully, Cindy Heath is nearly as athletic as her talented daughter and springs up in time to catch Tobin.

 

* * *

 

 

The following week, Christen arrives home after a late practice with the team. She walks into the house and Tobin immediately senses there is something wrong.

 

“Chris? You okay?”

 

Christen looks up, a visible grimace on her face. Tobin grabs her crutches and hobbles over.

 

“Jill says I need to figure out how to get my game to the next level if I want to keep my roster spot.” Christen is squeezing her temple with her fingers.

 

Tobin is quiet for a moment. “Did she give you any other information than that?” 

 

“No.”  

 

_Fucking Jill._

  


“Okay, so we just have to figure it out.”

 

“We... don’t have to do anything, Tobin. This is my problem, not yours.” Christen is clearly frustrated.

 

“I’m just trying to…” 

 

“I didn’t ask for your help, Tobin.” Christen stands up and walks into the other room.

 

Tobin stares at the ground in confusion. Tobin’s mother walks into the room. She’s obviously heard everything. “Is everything okay, honey?”

 

“I don’t know,” says Tobin, adding “don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

  


Tobin gets ready for bed. Christen hasn’t said anything since her outburst earlier.  She pulls the covers back and gets into bed.

 

“I’m sorry,” Christen whispers.

 

Tobin reaches over and rubs Christen’s shoulder.

 

“Everything is just so up in the air. And I didn’t need to hear that from Jill.” Christen turns over and faces Tobin. “I’m scared.”

 

_I’m scared too._

 

Tobin knows that no amount of talking will help in this moment. Christen is leaving the next day for San Diego in advance of the first game. She pulls Christen into an embrace and holds her gently until she falls asleep. Tobin pushes Christen’s wavy black hair behind her ear and watches Christen’s eyes flutter. Tobin kisses Christen and caresses her hand until her own lids are heavy. Tobin falls asleep, the hefty weight of worry in her heart.

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later, Tobin’s phone rings.

 

“ **I got traded. To Houston.** ” 

 

_Fuck._

 

“Okay. Have they called you?” asks Tobin.

 

“Yeah, they want me to come down to tour the facilities. I’m going to go ahead and do that right after this game.” Christen has a strange resolve in her voice. Tobin knows she has already made a list of what she wants.

 

“What are you looking for? What would it take for you to play there?” Tobin wants to fully understand Christen’s motives. And selfishly, she wants to figure out how to keep Christen here on U.S soil.

 

“I need to believe in the coach. I need to feel like there is winning culture being built and I’m looking for professional facilities. I want to be somewhere I can grow. It won’t take me long to know whether Houston has that or not.” Christen has obviously given this a lot of thought.

 

* * *

 

 

The USWNT crushes Denmark at SDCCU Stadium in San Diego a few nights later.  Christen comes in for Alex Morgan in the 70th minute and ten minutes later Press fires a bullet of a shot at the Danish keeper who blocks the ball only to have Crystal Dunn capitalize on the rebound.

 

USWNT, 5 - Denmark, 1

  


Two days later, a text message comes through on Tobin’s phone.

 

11:45am

**This isn’t it.**

 

11:46am

**Okay.**

**Come home, baby.**

  
  


Tobin is worried for the next several weeks as Christen waits anxiously for her agent to call with good news.  In the meantime, Tobin has the cast removed from her foot and begins the long process of rehabilitation.

 

Christen meets Tobin in Portland for a few weeks. Tobin’s foot needs to be assessed by the Thorns training and medical staff.

 

Tobin wakes one morning and turns over only to find Christen’s side of the bed empty.  She gets up and finds Christen in her bare feet and robe, staring out the living room window at the Portland skyline.  Tobin comes up behind Christen and puts her arms around her.

 

“Good morning,” Christen whispers, grasping Tobin’s hands and pulling them tighter around her.

 

“Good morning.” Tobin nuzzles Christen’s neck. Even with all the uncertainty and worry, Tobin is happy in this moment, that she and Christen call this place their home.

 

Still, Tobin knows what Christen is thinking.

 

_Plan B._ Tobin sighs. She hopes it doesn’t come to that.

 

“Come back to bed, baby.”

 

“Okay,” Christen whispers.

  
  


Christen is called into camp for the She Believes Cup. She only plays one game during the three game series which the USWNT wins. Tobin knows that not having a club team has more than likely affected Christen’s standing with the national team.

 

Christen comes home to Portland and Tobin. Tobin has been making steady progress with her foot.  She has been working out a little, but is still weeks away from being able to be on the pitch.

 

Tobin has completely put the idea of asking Christen to marry her on the back burner.  She doesn’t want to create any more pressure on Christen.

 

Christen is a planner. She likes to know what is coming so she can be mentally ready, but in this instance, she has no idea what’s coming. She doesn’t know where she’ll be even in the next month. Tobin knows that is the single most stressful situation for Christen to deal with.

 

It's morning midweek. Tobin was going to try to run on the treadmill in the fitness center at Providence Park, but Christen has been on the phone with her agent in L.A. most of the morning. Tobin wants to see if there’s any good news. 

 

There isn’t.

 

“So nothing? Not even Seattle? Damn it! I thought we were at least close on that. Okay okay… We only have a few more days. I know. I know, Denise. I know. Okay.” Tobin has never seen Christen so stressed.  Christen hangs up.

 

Tobin is silent, waiting for Christen to initiate the conversation.  Christen can’t seem to look at Tobin. Her eyes are glassy. Tobin doesn’t know what to say or what to do. She needs to say something. Anything.

 

“I want to help. Tell me how I can help.” Tobin is desperate to make this situation better.

 

“How can you help, Tobin? There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.” Christen is frustrated and angry now. It reminds Tobin of when they broke up in Texas and suddenly Tobin is frightened.

 

“Chris. It doesn’t help to act like this…please look at me.”

 

“Tobin, please don’t tell me how to feel about this.” Christen clutches both sides of her head. “I get to be hysterical about my career going up in flames. I get to be upset about it. Don’t tell me how to act or feel. And don’t pity me. I can’t look at you because that’s all I see anymore. Pity.” Christen is nearly crying now. 

 

“Please don’t shut me out. I want to help you.” Tobin can feel pain spreading through her body like a cancer.

 

“I don’t need your help.” Christen gets up. She shakes her head. “I just need space now, Tobin. I need time to figure this out myself.”

 

Christen grabs her purse and coat and walks out the door.

 

Tobin knows what’s coming. _Plan B_. 

 

_Dear God._

 

It seems inevitable now. Tobin is worried that the distance will be more than they can take. After all they’ve been through, it isn’t fair.

 

Tobin paces in the living room. She knows better than to go after Christen. She needs to cool off. If space is what she needs, then that’s what Tobin is going to give her. 

  


Tobin calls a friend.

 

“Hey. Are you home yet? Can I come over? I know. I know.”  Tobin grabs her car keys and backpack and flies out the door.

  
  


Several hours later, Tobin comes back to the condo. Christen isn’t there. It's already evening in Portland.

 

6:45pm

**Hey, where are you?**

 

6:46pm

**I had to get away.**

**I’m sorry about earlier.**

**I just need to figure this out.**

 

6:48pm

**When are you coming home?**

 

6:50pm

**I had to go home to L.A.**

**I went to the airport after we talked.**

 

_What? This is your home._ Tobin doesn’t know how to respond.

 

6:51pm

**I’m going to Sweden.**

 

_Nooooo. No..._

 

6:51pm

**How long?**

**When do you leave?**

 

6:53pm

**I have to be in Goteborg beginning of April.**

**I’m going to see Denise tomorrow**

**and try and plan this out**

**I know this is unexpected.**

**I’m sorry. I’ll be back soon.**

 

6:54pm

**Okay**

**Can I call you?**

  


6:54pm

**No. I just need some time to myself.**

**I hope you understand.**

  


Early the next morning, Tobin is still feeling confused and apprehensive about the previous day’s events. 

 

_I need to trust Christen. Just Trust her._

 

Tobin decides to go about her day and heads out to try and kick the ball around a little. She walks the few blocks to Providence Park. Inside, she says hello to the office staff and one of the trainers.  She grabs a bag of balls from the equipment room and walks out onto the pitch.

 

Tobin tries a few simple drills, just to get a feel for the ball. She dribbles the length of the field and then takes an easy shot at goal. It trickles into the net. 

 

She thinks of Christen’s ease with the ball. Her graceful movement and speed. Tobin sits on the ground, the ball between her legs. She looks up at the empty stands. 

 

_I could go with her_. 

 

Tobin looks at the ground and knows Christen would never let her leave Portland to go overseas. Tobin feels utterly helpless. Tears begin to fall from her eyes. She looks to the sky.

 

_Please don’t take her away from me._

 

Tobin gets up. She knows she has work to do. She runs the length of the field and dribbles for twenty more minutes before lining up several balls and dribbling left and right to take shots at goal.  

 

This is what she was meant to do.  And it's also what Christen was meant to do. Tobin decides that she will do whatever it takes for Christen to get what she needs. If that means Tobin has to lose Christen to help her get what she wants, she’ll do it.

 

Inside the Thorns locker room, Tobin showers and then gathers her things. She calls up Meghan Klingenberg for dinner.

 

Kling makes dinner, a mostly vegan Mexican spread.  Tobin insists on bringing real cheese for the tacos. The thought of eating vegan cheese makes Tobin queasy.  A little later, after cleaning up, Tobin and Kling have a couple of beers in front of the TV.

 

“Tobs?” Kling knows something is wrong.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I don’t know what’s going on, but do you want to talk about it?”

 

Tobin sighs. “I don’t know how you can help, Kling.”

 

“How bout you just try me and see.” Meghan Klingenberg has always been a persuasive individual.  Tobin relents.

 

Tobin tells Kling the situation. Her fears, her feelings for Christen. Her hope for the future.

 

“What makes you think she’s going to leave you?” Kling asks.

 

“I don’t know. She could be gone so long. How can that possibly work?” Tobin laments.

 

“Does she love you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you obviously love her.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“And you’re both crazy about each other.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So what makes you think it can’t work? After all of that?” the corner of Kling’s mouth is up. Tobin knows Kling thinks she’s being dramatic or plain stupid.

 

“I think you’re being dramatic,” says Kling. “You want to marry her right?”

 

“More than anything. But first I just have to ask her. I asked her parents for permission already.” Tobin smiles for what seems like the first time in a long time.

 

Kling throws her hands in the air. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

 

Tobin looks pleadingly at her friend. “I’m working on it.”

 

\---------------

 

The next morning, Christen pushes open the door, a large suitcase rolling behind her.

 

Christen walks over to Tobin and immediately pulls her into a tight hug.

 

“I’m so sorry about the other day.  I’m sorry I yelled at you…” Christen says remorsefully.

 

Tobin kisses Christen gently. “Please don’t apologize. I was just worried.”

 

“You wanted to help and I brushed you off. I’m awful. I’m just...awful. I’m so sorry.” 

 

Tobin is quiet for a moment. “That was kind of awful.” Tobin has a wry smile as she teases Christen.

 

“It was wasn’t it.” Christen says softly. She smiles at Tobin.  “I haven’t told you this in a few days.” She kisses Tobin and then whispers “I love you.”

 

Tobin’s heart swells with love for this woman. “I love you more.”

 

Christen is teasing Tobin’s ear with her lips. “So competitive!”

 

Tobin holds Christen tightly, thankful they’re together.

  


They spend the rest of the morning making up for being apart.  Christen goes down on Tobin in the living room. Thankfully the blinds are closed and the walls are very thick concrete. Tobin comes sitting up on the couch, and lets out a groan that reverberates through the apartment. They move to the bed afterwards and Tobin begins her ministrations on Christen’s neck and breasts.  She’s never made love with anyone the way she does with Christen. Their bodies fit effortlessly together as they move together in the bed. Tobin gets lost in every kiss with Christen. Tobin will never tire of having her skin against Christen’s skin.

 

“I have to go back to L.A. before I fly to Sweden on Sunday.” Christen says several minutes after the last round.  She turns so she’s facing Tobin in the bed. Tobin realizes she has tears in her eyes. “I’m worried that the distance will be too hard for us.”

 

Tobin gazes at Christen and says “I’m yours no matter what.” She wipes Christens tears away. “I love you. A million miles could never change that.”

 

Christen’s mouth falls open. She gazes at Tobin with a clearly worried expression for several seconds before she leans over and kisses Tobin gently. “You’ll FaceTime me every day? And text me all the time?”

 

“You’d better believe it.”

 

“I do believe it,” says Christen resting her head on Tobin’s shoulder.

 

Tobin caresses Christen’s shoulder and back.

 

A moment later, Christen says, “You know Jill left me off the Mexico roster. I totally get why. But it still hurts.”

 

_Fucking Jill._

 

“Don’t worry. You’ll go and score a million goals against all those staring fika-loving Swedes and come back to the next camp. And hopefully by then your agent will have you going to the right team.”  Tobin kisses Christen on the forehead, and twirls Christen’s hair in her fingers.

 

“How do you know all this trade stuff?” asks Christen.

 

Tobin chuckles. “You think I haven’t been paying attention and speculating about all the potential ways this could go down? I started doing that the day we thought there might be a _Plan B_.”

 

Christen smirks and gives Tobin a lustful look. “Speaking of going down…”

 

\------

  


Their last day together, Christen is weepy most of the morning. Tobin fights the urge to break down several times. She wants to be strong and positive for Christen. Fortunately, they have special plans for today. 

 

Tobin makes the long drive with Christen to their spot at Hood River. Once again, the plan is to have lunch and fly their kites as high as they will go. It's still cold on this day late in March. Tobin and Christen are bundled up in jackets and beanies. The sandbar at the confluence is a bit more flooded than before, but there is still plenty of space to fly kites and have a picnic.

 

Tobin has also brought a couple of chairs and a thermos full of coffee. She’s thought of everything.

 

This time they are completely by themselves.  Tobin is thankful as she watches seagulls lazily circling the edge of the sandbar’s short beach, looking for food.  She wants to remember this moment and this day. Everything about it.

 

“Did you make that?” Christen is asking about the lunch.

 

“Yes, is it okay?” Tobin isn’t much of a cook, but she makes decent guacamole, which has recently been improved by Christen’s younger sister.

 

“This tastes like my sister’s guac.”

 

“Yeah, I can’t take credit for that, really.” Tobin grins.

 

“But you made this salad? I feel like I’ve had this before.” Christen asks.

 

“Yep, I followed the recipe exactly.” Tobin grins knowingly.

 

“What recipe?”

 

“The one the chef at _Andrew Edmunds_ gave me.” Tobin says proudly.

 

“Seriously?” Christen smiles as she takes another bite. She squints at Tobin. “Tell me the truth, how long did you hunt around the grocery before you had to ask what fennel is?” 

 

Christen knows Tobin so well. Tobin had gone to the grocery the day before and found all the ingredients for the Andrew Edmunds _Fenouil et pomme_ salad. She had no idea what fennel is and spent several minutes looking before a woman interrupted Tobin frustrated in the produce aisle.

 

“Hi.” A young woman with an apron and several tattoos on each arm is smiling at Tobin. “Can I help you?” Her name tag says “ _Emily”_.

 

Tobin is exasperated. She sighs and says “Yes. What is fennel? And do you have any?”

 

Emily smiles and motions for Tobin to follow. “This is our organic sweet fennel. It's grown just outside of Portland near Beaverton. We have three more types of organic fennel. Do you want to see those?”

 

“No thanks,” Tobin’s head is already spinning. “I’ll just take the sweet fennel.”

 

“What are you making?” Emily asks.

 

“A fennel and apple salad.”  Tobin opens her phone and shows Emily the recipe.

 

“Oh, make sure that you slice the bulb very very thinly. Otherwise it's a little tough if it's raw in a salad.” Emily is nothing if not very helpful. Tobin is thankful. She would have put giant chunks into the salad.

 

Fortunately the salad that Christen is eating is delicate and delicious.  Emily had even suggested putting the dressing on the side. Something, Tobin would never have thought of doing.

 

After lunch, Christen and Tobin fly their kites. The wind is nearly perfect again as the kites soar in the sky.  Tobin has as much admiration as she does love for this woman. Christen has the touch. She pulls and releases the line at the right times. Tobin watches her play with the line of the kite like a magician willing the impossible into the Oregon sky. Tobin is amazed at the strength and delicacy in Christen’s fingertips as the smallest touch moves the kite left and right or higher into the Cascadia blue.  

 

_If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it._

 

Tobin knows.

 

_Now’s the time. Now’s the moment_.  

 

Tobin exhales. She reaches in the backpack at her feet and pulls out her magical copy of _Beloved_ with Sophia’s and her notes, and shoves it into her sweatshirt pocket.  _Gonna need that for luck._  She ties the kite to a heavy river-worn tree stump nearby.  Amazingly the kite hardly moves in the sky.

 

Christen’s pink kite is so far, it's over the water.  The wrong move or gust of wind could send it tumbling into the Columbia River, never to be seen again.  But Christen has utter confidence in her control of the kite and the air. There’s still more line, so she lets it out even farther.

 

“ _Love is never any better than the lover_ ,” says Tobin.

 

“That’s absolutely true in your case. No better lover. No better love.” Christen is smiling as she turns and recognizes the quote. “ _The Bluest Eye_. That’s my favorite.”

 

“It's my favorite too,” says Tobin. Tobin is gazing at Christen. She feels remarkably calm, considering what she’s about to do.

 

“Are you okay?” Christen asks. A worried look is on her face.

 

“Never better.” Tobin is still staring at Christen.

 

“What are you doing?” Christen starts to pull the kite in.

 

“Don’t. Just let it fly,” says Tobin. She points to her orange kite over a hundred yards behind them. It is nearly still in the sky. The wind rippling the tail is the only evidence that it has moved.

 

“Tobin, you’re scaring me.” Christen is frozen in her spot.

 

“Don’t be scared. I don’t want you to worry about anything. I have something I wanna say.” Tobin walks over and takes the kite line from Christen and ties it to a nearby tree stump.  

 

When she returns she takes Christen’s hands in hers. She looks at Christen’s delicate beautiful hands in hers. There’s gentle urgency in Tobin’s voice.

 

“I’ve only ever been sure of two things. That God made me to play football. My feet, my legs, my chest, my head... even my arms. God made all of me to play football. I’ve known since I was little that was the only thing I was meant to do. It's been at the core of my being forever.” Tobin lifts her head and looks into Christen’s incandescent green eyes.

 

“The second thing I’m sure of...that I’m even more sure of…is that I love you. That I was made to love you, and that you were made to love me.” Tobin searches Christen’s eyes. “I’m not saying this now because the future seems uncertain.  I’m absolutely sure of our future. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my whole life.” Tobin reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small red box. 

 

Tobin drops to one knee.

 

“ _Oh my God_ …” Christen gasps as she covers her mouth with both hands.

 

Tobin opens the red box to reveal the gold ring inside. She looks up at Christen. Christen is shuddering as her eyes fill with tears.

  


“Christen, will you marry me?” Tobin’s heart has never beaten harder.

  


Christen wastes no time. She’s on her knees with her arms around Tobin’s neck. 

 

“Yes! Yesss! Yes! I’ll marry you! I’ll marry you!” Christen is shivering as she plants multiple kisses on Tobin’s face.

 

Tobin is crying too. She feels like she could lift off with how happy she feels. At this moment her heart feels like it could break from how full it feels. She stands and pulls Christen to her feet. She buries her face in Christen’s hair and holds Christen gently for a long time. The crying gulls riding the wind and the Columbia River rushing by are the only music for the occasion . Eventually, Tobin pulls back smiling at Christen and pops the ring out of the box.

 

“It's like yours,” Christen says, looking at the beautiful Cartier ring.

 

“It's better,” says Tobin grinning. The ring is truly beautiful. It's smaller and more delicate, riveted by gold studs and diamonds.

 

Tobin holds Christen’s left hand up. She takes the ring and slides it onto Christen’s ring finger. 

 

Christen kisses Tobin hard. She puts her hand on Tobin’s cheek and runs a thumb over Tobin’s lower lip. “I love you.”

 

“I love you.” Tobin gazes at Christen’s impossibly green eyes and thinks back to that fateful day so many years before. It’s taken Tobin a long time. She finally feels deserving of the love she’s only dreamed of. Tobin is finally, after so many years, ready to accept all the love that Christen has to offer. 

 

Tobin takes Christen’s hand and kisses the ring on her finger. Tobin gazes at Christen. “I want you to remember. Even if you’re overseas for a few months, remember -- we’ll have every month...and every day...and every minute...and every second after that.”

 

Christen smiles and cradles Tobin’s face in her hands and then kisses her gently. “I can’t wait.”

  
  
  
  
  


The End.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had so much fun writing this. Thank you to everyone for your kudos and comments. I plan to try and write something else in the near future. There will be an Epilogue for this story, so its not quite over yet. Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this story. I would so love to hear from you. -- Cheville


	11. Epilogue

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,  
I all alone beweep my outcast state,  
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,  
And look upon myself and curse my fate,  
wishing me like to one more rich in hope,  
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,  
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,  
With what I most enjoy contented least;  
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,  
Haply I think on thee—and then my state,  
Like to the lark at break of day arising  
From sullen earth sings hymns at heaven's gate;  
   For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,  
   That then I scorn to change my state with kings.  
  
—William Shakespeare

 

* * *

 

Christen smiles and holds her hand up admiring the ring. “This is easily the blingiest ring I have. How ‘bout we put it on my middle finger. That way we’re not creating a bunch of rumors about a ring on my left hand. Especially before a World Cup year. Is that okay?”

 

“I don’t care what finger it’s on, as long as it's on _a_ finger.” Tobin feels drunk with happiness.

 

“Wait, did you ask my parents if…”

 

“What do you think I was doing standing out on the lawn for so long with your parents at Thanksgiving?” Tobin’s heart beats a little faster thinking about that experience.

 

“Oh my God. Really?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“I saw you over there and I was worried they were ganging up on you.”

 

“They kind of were. At least...your Dad was.”

 

“Hm, you’ll have to tell me about that later.” Christen is looking at her ring. “When did you get the ring?”

 

“Well, that day you flew home to L.A., I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I needed to talk to someone, so I drove like a crazy person up to Seattle to see Pinoe.”

 

“Pinoe?”

 

“Yeah, Pinoe.”

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Tobin has broken nearly every law driving up to Seattle from Portland.  By the time she arrives at Pinoe’s apartment in the lower Queen Anne section of Seattle, it's only a little before noon.

 

“Dude, what’s goin’ on?” Pinoe swings the apartment door open for Tobin.

 

Tobin runs her fingers through her hair as she begins to pace in Pinoe’s living room. “I don’t know. Everything. Everything. I....I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Whoa. Tobin. Sit down.”  Pinoe walks behind the kitchen counter and fills a glass full of water.  She walks back over and sits next to Tobin on the couch and hands her the glass. “Drink this.”

 

Tobin is so thirsty. She hasn’t had a thing to drink in several hours. She looks at Pinoe, grateful Pinoe knows her so well.  

 

“You know Christen decided not to go to Houston.”

 

“Yep. It's all over the news.” Pinoe has a wry smile. “Ballsy.” Tobin knows Pinoe thinks it was the right move.

 

“She’s going to Sweden, at least for the next few months. Maybe longer. She left this morning and flew home to L.A.. She didn’t even tell me she was thinking of going home. She told me she needs time to figure things out by herself.” Tobin grips the glass with both hands, fearful that she may drop it in her flustered and panicked state. “Pinoe, I’m really scared I’m gonna lose her.”

 

Pinoe sighs and shakes her head. “Tobin, what makes you say that?”

 

Tobin tell’s Pinoe the events from this morning. 

 

Pinoe is mulling over what Tobin has just told her when Tobin tells her the main reason for coming to Seattle.

 

“I wanted to ask her to marry me.” Tobin is heartsick at the thought that it might not happen.

 

“Dude! Oh my god!” Pinoe hugs Tobin on the couch and then realizes Tobin is frowning. “Wait a minute. _Wanted_?”

 

“I was gonna ask her soon, but then all of this happened. And now I don’t know what I’m gonna do if she leaves and goes overseas.  What if I never get to ask her. What if she says no?” Tobin is swirling.

 

“Tobin, what makes you think you can’t ask her right now?”

 

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like the right thing to do.”

 

“The Sweden thing is a done deal, right?”

 

“Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Sooo...what do you have to lose?”

 

Tobin thinks about that for a minute.  She’s not sure what there is to lose. All she knows is that she wants to build a life and a future with Christen.  At this moment though, it all feels like it's slipping away and Tobin feels almost resigned to the fact that it will.  

 

Pinoe must know what’s on her mind, because the next words out of Megan Rapinoe’s mouth change everything.

 

“I’ve known you for, what...over ten years?  I’ve known Press for almost as long. The first time I met you, I was sure you were just some dumb cocksure jock of a soccer player.” Pinoe turns and motions to Tobin, smiling “No offense.” Tobin shakes her head, a wry smile on her face. 

 

Pinoe continues “you were so talented, and so chill and quiet. I wasn’t sure if it was an act, or if that was just who you were.” Pinoe looks up at her friend. “Turns out, there was more to you than any of us could have imagined.” Pinoe leans forward on the couch, an earnestness in her posture.

 

“You’re one of the greatest players I’ve had the privilege of calling a teammate. You make everyone around you better. You’re generous with your time. You find good in everyone. You’re fair and honest. And you’re the most selfless person I know. That’s more than I can say about anyone else I know.” 

 

Pinoe’s brow furrows. “I used to worry about you. We all did. You never had a serious relationship. You had a girlfriend on another continent. You were somehow satisfied with that.” Pinoe looks up and shakes her head. “No one should be satisfied with that.”  Tobin has never heard Megan Rapinoe say anything like this.

 

“I used to worry that maybe girls just found you too intimidating.  After awhile, I realized it was something more serious.” Pinoe pauses and looks at Tobin. “After awhile it became obvious to me that you just didn’t think you were good enough. Any attempts by a girl to get close to you... you would find a way to sabatoge... _it’s not serious, it’s not like that_... You always made it seem like it was nothing.” 

 

Pinoe’s expression shifts to one of sorrow and affection. “And then you met Christen.” Pinoe is silent for a moment. “And you fought... _so hard_ …” Pinoe’s eyes are starting to water. “You fought so hard to think you were good enough or that you deserved her. I’d give you a hard time about her because I knew all you had to do was ask her to go out with you. She was _waiting_ for you. She was _made_ for you, Tobin. And you were made for her. You were always good enough. You were always deserving. You just had to _believe it_.”

 

Tobin’s eyes are wet. Her mouth is open as she looks at Pinoe. Tobin isn’t sure what to say. There’s a part of her that wants to be angry. 

 

And then she remembers her mother’s words on the drive to Newark airport. 

 

“ _Sometimes I think you just don’t believe it._ ” 

 

 _Jesus_. 

 

Tobin slumps on the couch. Tobin’s heart breaks with the realization that everything Pinoe has said, is true. Tobin remembers the first camp when Christen smiled at Tobin across the room. Every moment since, Christen has been in love with Tobin. For so long, Tobin, on some level, couldn’t believe that could possibly be true.

 

_She loves me. She’s always loved me. She belongs to me._

 

Tobin breathes in, a slow stuttering breath. She looks up. Pinoe’s tear-soaked face is smiling.

 

Tobin reaches over and puts her arms around Pinoe. She gives her friend a long and tearful hug. Eventually, Tobin pulls back, a wry smile on her face.

 

“Could you do me a favor?” says Tobin.

 

“Anything. You name it.”

 

Tobin looks up, a weepy but toothy grin on her face. “Will you help me find a ring?”

 

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

 

Sometime in the future.

 

* * *

 

It's early morning on this late October weekday. The birds are only just starting to chirp on this quiet street in the Portland Heights neighborhood known as the “Grid.” This unassuming house is a converted and updated single family home built at the turn of the last century on a hillside. The entire backside has been redesigned with expansive glass windows and doors giving it's owners panoramic views of downtown Portland. It has recently been purchased by the new coach of the Portland Thorns.

  


Tobin opens an eye and squints at the alarm clock. 5:54 A.M.

 

“How much longer do we have?”

 

“Exactly six minutes.” Tobin flips the alarm off.

 

“Can we accomplish anything in six minutes?” Christen turns over and looks suggestively at Tobin, kissing her gently.

 

Tobin puts her hand under Christen’s pajama top and caresses her back.

 

Suddenly, a distorted squealing breaks through on the baby monitor.

 

Christen smiles at Tobin and gives her a quick peck. “I got this.”  Christen throws her feet over the side of the bed and springs up.

 

Tobin sighs. She smiles and stretches as she looks at the ceiling, determined to get a few more minutes luxuriating in the warmth of the bed. 

 

Suddenly, she hears the sound of little feet running down the hallway.  Before Tobin has a chance to turn, a tiny body hurls itself on top of her.

 

“Ungh!” Tobin has never once been prepared for Little Harry when he’s launched himself onto her in the morning.

 

“Mommy!” Harry Cody Press Heath has been a bundle of energy since he arrived three and a half years earlier. Harry looks like his beautiful mother, caramel skin, wavy dark hair and green eyes.

 

“Good morning, buddy.” Tobin tickles Harry.

 

“Stop it Mommy! That tickles!” Harry has a laugh that is absolutely music to Tobin’s ears.

 

Harry eventually _wrestles_ Tobin into submission. He’s sitting on Tobin’s belly, while she pretends to be subdued.

 

“Oh nooooo! Have mercy on me!” Tobin pretends to flail as if she’s been vanquished. 

 

“I’ll let you up, Mommy, only if you take me to the park again to play football.” Little Harry has a determined smile on his face. Tobin can tell he’s completely serious.  When Harry refers to the “park,” he means Providence Park. And when he says “football” he, of course means, soccer.

 

“Okay Har. How ‘bout after breakfast, we’ll go down to the park.”

 

“Yay!” Little Harry jumps up and down on the bed in celebration.

 

“Hey! What's going on in here?” Christen comes in cradling the baby in her arms.

 

“Mommy is taking me to the park!” Harry has a smile just like his mother and his namesake, Christen’s father.

 

“Oh, is that so?” Christen holds the baby out for Tobin to take, so that she can climb back into bed and hug her son.

 

“Are you going in to the office today?” Tobin asks. She kisses baby Franny on her fuzzy head and sniffs her wonderful baby smell.

 

“Nope.” Christen holds Harry in her arms and smiles at Tobin. “I was thinking maybe you’d let me come and play too?”  

 

Christen’s media company has been extremely successful, especially since the IPO last year. Even though she’s the CEO, she lets her vice-president, Julia, run most of the day to day. Christen works from her home office most days, and only comes in to the Portland or L.A. offices when absolutely necessary. The flexibility affords her the luxury of far more time with her family.

 

Tobin smiles warmly at her wife, son and new baby, grateful for her beautiful family.

 

It's the off-season in Portland and Tobin has the next few months off. She will regroup with her staff to start planning for the new season after the first of the year.  Until then, Christen and the kids have all of her attention.

  
  


Harry runs out onto the pitch at Providence Park, a ball at his feet.

 

Tobin follows close behind and gazes at him as he pretends he’s an airplane after smacking the ball into goal.

 

_Just like his mother._

 

“He’s so beautiful.” Christen slips her fingers through Tobin’s fingers, her other arm is wrapped around the baby strapped to her chest. “I wish I could come out and kick the ball with him, but....” She points to the baby swaddled on her chest.

 

Tobin smiles. She pulls her phone out and sends a text message.  A minute later, Tobin’s new assistant coach, Kelley O’Hara runs out onto the pitch.

 

“Where’s my little girl?” Kelley walks up to Christen. “I hear you need another pair of hands.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Press is amazed to see Kelley here.

 

“I was just finishing up some paperwork for the new job. Tobin is actually supposed to be signing off on a few things while she’s here.” Kelley motions toward Tobin. “Give me Franny. Go play with Harry.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course, Press. Hand her over. She’s practically my kid too.”  Kelley O’Hara is one of Harry’s favorite soccer aunts. And she’s destined to be one of Franny’s favorites too.

 

Christen hasn’t had a ball under foot in a long time. She runs up to Tobin and nutmegs her on her way to rifling a ball into the top of the near post.

 

“Whoa! Mommy! You’re good!”  Harry is amazed.

 

Tobin sidles up to Christen and whispers “Wanna show the kid what we’re made of?”

 

Christen nods and smiles her beautiful ear to ear smile.

 

Tobin dribbles the ball out to midfield and then runs as fast as she can toward Christen. Christen, like riding a bicycle, kicks into defensive mode, running step for step with Tobin toward goal.  Tobin is smiling at Christen as she dribbles and then jukes left and slots the ball between Christen’s legs, grabbing the ball behind and firing a missile into the net.

 

“Ooooh!!” Christen is laughing. She runs up to Tobin and throws her arms around Tobin’s neck.

 

“I still got it, baby!” Tobin says to Christen, a giant grin on her face. She kisses Christen for several seconds, eventually getting lost in the kiss.

 

‘Hey, hey, hey! There’s little kids here!” Kelley is yelling from the sideline.

 

They both look over at Harry, whose mouth is open in complete awe of his two mothers.

 

It's then that Tobin suddenly recognizes that her lifelong dream of _having a family, with beautiful kids, and someone to come home to_ , has become a reality.

 

Christen jogs over to Harry and scoops him up. “How’s my big man? You wanna play me one on one?”

 

“Mama, you’re so good at soccer! Just like Mommy!” Harry is looking at Christen, his eyes are wide.

 

“Yep. I promise to tell you all about it. But right now I have to kick your little butt!!” Christen puts Harry on the ground and runs toward the goal with the ball.

 

Harry chases after her, laughing. Tobin’s heart is so full. Her eyes glisten at the thought of the struggle to get here.

 

_This dream of a life... I would do it all again._

  


Portland is unusually warm this time of year. The Northwest winds gently rustle the pines outside their new home.  The rolling rattle of the northern flickers call from the woods beyond.

 

Later that night, Tobin and Christen make love with the glass bedroom doors open. The Cascadia breeze flutters the sheets on the bed as they move with each other. Tobin skims Christen’s belly and swollen breasts with her lips and tongue. Christen breathlessly pulls her long fingers through Tobin’s blonde hair. After so many years, Tobin still feels heated desire for this beautiful woman.

  

Afterwards, Tobin tenderly kisses Christen’s cheek and neck under the Oregon moonlight. She’s overwhelmed with love for Christen and holds her tightly.

 

“What are you thinking?” Christen asks.

 

“I love you.” Tobin lifts her head, gazing into Christen’s green eyes. “I love us.”

 

“I love us, too.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your kind words. It was absolutely a labor of love writing this. Please let me know if you have any questions for me. I'll answer what I can. And as always I would love to hear any comments. Again, thank you.


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